The Real Romance Dawn
by laydee-jiraya
Summary: For Luffy, it was love at first sight. For Zoro, it would take some getting used to. Will Luffy be able to win him over? What will this mean for Boa Hancock? And will Zoro die of laughter when okama Sanji rejoins the crew? Read on to find out!
1. Chapter 1

One Piece—The Real Romance Dawn

by Laydee Jiraya

* * *

Chapter 1—The Real Romance Dawn! Luffy and Zoro Set Sail!

You could tell there was something on his mind by the way his gaze drifted out to sea, his eyes all a void, like big, dark wells. A big grin plastered itself on his face from time to time, while the pathetic excuse for a sail fluttered in sea spray and wind. It looked like it used to be a bed sheet, before Luffy had tied it clumsily to two broom poles. Storm clouds were gathering above their heads, blooming from the east. The faint glimmer of sun stroked his cheeks, while rain and night approached this ridiculous boat. It could easily capsize—and the captain couldn't swim. As far as Zoro was concerned, there was nothing to smile about.

And Luffy had an enormous appetite. They had set off four hours ago—and the food was almost entirely gone.

"Oi. You sure you know what you're doing?" He had his doubts. Luffy didn't.

"Of course! I've sailed around in a boat like this before. That one got sucked into a whirlpool."

"Yeah, that makes me feel at ease."

He grinned. "See? Nothing to worry about."

"The sarcasm just flew over your head, rubber-man."

"Oh?" Confusion engulfed his face. "I don't see it." A hand stretched across his brow, shading his eyes comically as he darted back and forth in the small boat, looking in every direction. "Nani? Nani? Doko da? Nani?" Zoro almost felt guilty as he stifled a snicker. This poor guy was hopeless. He settled down, and so did the ocean. "Aw. I missed the sarcasm."

"You did. Do you even know what sarcasm is?"

". . . A bird? Meat?"

"No, it's—" And then something struck the boat, a slow scraping across the bottom. The light faded, leaving Zoro's eyes shadowed, giving the idea that they were bruised. Coupled with his green hair, they made him look almost demonic. His hand went to the hilts of his katanas.

"There may be an enemy."

Luffy nodded, looking serious for the first time since they'd set off. And then they noticed the island. It was the same shore, in fact, that they had set off from four hours back—the same rocks, the same slope, the same seashells. A frown filled the captain's face.

"Hmm." He seemed to think for a while, a good long while. "Oh! I don't know how to navigate."

"You should have said something before! I'll take over the navigating." Luffy didn't protest, mostly because he didn't yet know how good Zoro was at getting lost.

"Yosh! Here we come again, world!"

"No, no. Let's go get some more food first."

"But we were supposed to get out of town. We're on the run."

"So disguise yourself. You're a pirate. Think outside the box."

"Disguise myself . . . Oh!" And then the sail was untied—and Luffy was under it, making bizarre groaning sounds.

Zoro's face became filled with horror. ". . . What is that?"

"I'm a ghooOOOooOOOsssst. WoooOOOooo!"

"How is that a proper disguise?" The taller man pulled the sheet off, and put it around his smaller companion like a cloak. "Here. You're a nun now."

"Do nuns wear white?"

"Uhiuh."

"So . . . what're you gonna be?"

"I'll be—" He pulled his shirt up over his head, his arms hanging out of the sleeves, stuck forward over the top of his skull. He seemed to be having some trouble getting out. He couldn't see it, but stars were filling the idiot captain's eyes.

"Suge! You're a headless horseman!"

"Baka! I don't even have a horse!"

"You're right. It's not very convincing." His fist slammed down in the palm of his hand. "Yosh! I know! I'll be the horse!" And before Zoro could protest or free himself that same idiot had picked him up by his ankles and sat him behind his head. He leapt from the boat and ran, racing forward for some time before he realized Zoro was no longer there. The man lay sprawled a quarter mile back, his head pounding from being smacked into by a low-hanging branch.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

"Wari." The stupid guy's face got swallowed in a smile.

The rain came pouring down about three seconds after, leaping in their eyes on a howling wind, blinding them. A distant crack of a splitting rope. The boat began waltzing out to sea, too far to be reached even with stretchy limbs by the time Luffy could react. "NANI? Oi! Zoro! Get the boat!" But he was already gone, his back vanishing shirtless under the water. Luffy stood there feeling helpless, clinging to the katanas which had been jammed into his hands an instant before. Then a head appeared out of the water in front of the boat, the rope clenched in barred teeth. By the time he'd swum to the shore it was beginning to hail.

The rope stayed in his mouth, words groaning out. "I'll look for somewhere to put it! Go find us a room!"

"But we're going out to sea!"

The rope spit out into strong fingers. "Are you crazy?" The captain's face was set, looking determined as all hell. "You're a hammer, for fuck sake. We're waiting it out." The straw hat tilted down, shadowing what small glimmer of his face the night had allowed. "LUFFY!" The hat and the tattered shroud blew back in a wild breeze, and their gazes locked, eyes and minds on fire. It was a battle of wills, silent, and with no show of force. They didn't need swords and fists to overwhelm each other.

And then, his jaw cracked into a laugh. "It's no big deal. We'll go tomorrow."

Zoro wanted to think he'd won. He knew he hadn't—the captain had changed his mind because he wanted to. It had nothing to do with Zoro. He'd never felt like this in someone's presence—completely naked and vulnerable.

He had mostly gone along out of debt and sympathy, without much faith in those big boasts of conquering the Grand Line and becoming the pirate king. As that familiar outline disappeared in the fog, he knew he'd been wrong.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Oi : Hey

Nani? : What?

Doko da? : Where?

Suge : Cool/Awesome

Baka : Stupid

Yosh : Sort of like "Alright!" or "Yeah!"

Wari : Sorry (casual)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2—The Most Painful Gift! "Take Me Instead!"

That was when Zoro first knew he felt something too strong for words—so naturally, no word would form on his tongue to call it by name. Not having a name for it, he had no idea what it was—especially noting how much he refused to consider the options.

Now Zoro stood in a faint dawn—barely stood, to be more exact, in the massive shadow of Bartholomew Kuma. At Zoro's own request they had gone far away from the others, who lay in torpor, lifeless limbs strewn at random. The pain still ricocheted through his bloodstream—Luffy's pain, which Kuma had taken out of his broken form. It had been just a pinch, the red stuff that Kuma flung at Zoro's chest, but that hurt felt like a thousand hot metal rods being stabbed into every square inch of his flesh.

Now the red ball of agony writhed and twisted in the air, slight heat coming off it, while the massive shape of the shichibukai clutched at a Bible.

"You will die here, as agreed. In exchange, I will spare your captain. I urge you to pray for forgiveness." A religious wacko. Zoro scoffed a dark smile.

"No thanks. Let's get this over with." Outside he was cool, aloof. Inside he was screaming out—deeper than that, he was steadily weeping. He shoved that part of him down, as he always had, but he couldn't stop his hands from trembling. That weeping in the core of his being, in the back of his mind, wasn't just for himself. He knew what this would do to them, to that smiley-faced baka he had come to care so deeply about. It pissed him off how Sanji volunteered to die after he'd already volunteered himself. What could that ero-cook know about the way he felt?

And besides, Luffy would be very unhappy if there was nobody around to cook meat for him.

_Luffy. I . . ._

No. He couldn't think that. Not now—he never thought about it before, had pushed it down every time it rose in his chest—that—_warm _feeling. There was no need to torture himself at the end. When his arms shot into the blood-stained ball of light he felt every blow dealt to the other man's body, every ragged beat of his heart as he gasped in pain from using second gear, every joint he strained and twisted just using the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Zoro'd had no idea Luffy suffered this much, and he kept hearing a voice, while every muscle in his body stiffened and blood poured from his mouth and eyes.

It was an animal screeching, bellowing in death spasms, the cry of cells themselves being ripped asunder. It was his own voice. The ball of light was halfway gone now, but as much as his spirit fought to control his body, it refused to obey him. It could take no more, and he fell to his knees. Kuma was merciful. Kuma helped him stand—held him in place, just before the floating orb.

"You want to give up? I can take your captain instead."

"Don't you touch him!" The growl wasn't his—it belonged to a bull in an arena stuck full of banderillas, while a crowd taunted and jeered, begged the matador to deliver the fatal blow. He tried to lift his arms, but couldn't. No. He could. Everything inside of him caught fire in the rush of fury, panic, desire to protect, a deep need for it to be him—not Luffy. Never Luffy.

As he'd said, if the captain died, his dream would die with him. Anyone would assume he meant being the world's greatest swordsman. It wasn't that. He could still become the greatest swordsman without anybody's help. This was something else: his dream to see Luffy be the pirate king. To see him happy. To know that he won.

With a final thrust, he shoved his hands inside.

"LUFFY!"

And the ball disappeared, filling his entire soul.

Everything became white light, and he found himself trapped in a memory—the memory of the first time Luffy had made advances at him, of all the weirdest things to be called on at this moment. It was the same night they found themselves caught in that storm, forced to stay on the island they'd so stupidly drifted back to—no matter how much they needed, wanted to get away from it. When his mind reeled in death spasms, he was left with nothing but the words which came out of Luffy's mouth the night after that.

_Zoro . . . I love you._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3—Zoro's Dying Memories! Icha Icha Nightmare!

Finding a place to put the boat that night was easier said than done, because huge waves seemed to batter every square foot of coast, and the tide was rising fast. Getting it to higher ground meant dragging it uphill—quite a ways in fact, because he had to find a good place to conceal it, too. In the end, it wound up wedged between two huge rocks at the top of a cliff—no one would see it unless they were in a boat trying to dock at the wrong side of the island. Or falling off the cliff.

It was freezing, and Zoro had no shirt—not that it mattered anyways, because the rain would have just stuck it to his skin, giving the wind a wetter surface to chill. He didn't have his katanas, either, and he was completely lost—so unbelievably, horribly lost that no normal human being would even bother to deny it or place the blame on someone else.

"That baka mugiwara. He wandered off and got lost." He scratched his head. "Well. I might as well look for him." Despite the fact that town lights could clearly be seen on the other side of the island—and even a lighthouse beacon—Zoro decided the best way to find Luffy was to retrace his footsteps. But he couldn't find his footsteps. So he guessed a direction at random and wandered off into the dark.

Some time later, that same darkness produced a voice, crawling up his spine along with the small shocks and goosebumps that came from being pounded with hail. "OI! ZORO!"

"Luffy? Where've you been? I found a place for the boat."

A tell-tale grin came running up out of the dark. "Great! Where'd you put it?"

". . ."

". . ." Untold amounts of time passed, while the two stared blankly at each other's poorly lit faces.

"Um . . . I don't know."

"Oh! Then it's a mystery?"

"Um. Yeah. Sure."

"Suge!"

"Did you get a room?"

"Ah. Wanna race there?"

"I don't know why you'd want to."

"Nan de?" But Zoro had already took off running.

"'Cause you're gonna lose!"

"Ah! Matte! That isn't fair!"

This wasn't like Zoro, at least not how he'd been since Kuina died. He was used to a harsh world where fun wasn't an option, and the only competition was for the right to live. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but ask himself: _Why am I doing this? _The only thing that came to mind was that it was Luffy's effect on him. The guy had a severe case of silliness, and it was contagious. He got a hold of himself, and stopped—only to be grabbed by two stretching arms that twisted around his waist and threw him back to where the captain ran.

"Shishishi! Caught up to you."

"No you didn't, you cheated!" But the stupid guy was already racing ahead.

"Chotto matte!" He had to catch up to him. His sense of pride had flicked on in his guts, pressing him forward, lungs exploding with deep breaths. Two sets of arms swished past, held in the stance of a run—but the first foot on the first step of the lighthouse wore a battered sandal. Its owner reeled around.

"Room," he said simply, and pointed vaguely to a window in the lighthouse. An arm sprang up to the ledge, and his thin silhouette tumbled inside into the deeper shadows. Zoro tried the door, but it was locked, and the whole place, aside from the beacon at the top, was pitch black.

"OI!" His voice came out in a sonic boom. "How am I supposed to get in?"

A head poked out of the window, augmented with a straw hat. "Shh! We're not supposed to be here!" Fingers stretched impossibly long, from an arm stretched even longer, and encircled his wrist. He had only half a second to realize what it meant, before he got pulled through the sky and flung against the stone block floor of a room three stories up.

"Luffy. I'm gonna cut you." A hand clamped over his mouth.

"Shh." Zoro couldn't see him, but he could feel his breath, hot and moist, and it told him his companion was leaning in, very close. He could feel his heart thud in his ribcage, terrorized at his personal bubble being so suddenly burst. Whispers tickled his ear. "We gotta be quiet. I don't know if anyone's here." The hand released him.

"Why couldn't you get a hotel room?"

"This seemed like what a pirate would do! Shishishishi!" He snickered, looking very mischievous. And then his face suddenly fell. He sat huddled in a corner, and traced circles in the dust on the floor. "I'm boooooored."

"Nani! Already?"

"Oi. Zoro." His smile seemed to make the room a little brighter, even though their eyes had already adjusted to the lack of light. "I wonder if this lighthouse is haunted."

"It's not, Luffy. Got to sleep."

"Why would I wanna sleep? Sleep is booooring. BORING!"

"You need to sleep, Luffy."

"That's it. I've decided. We're going to catch the ghost and make him our nakama!"

"They don't exist."

And then he started banging a pot and ladle together, which had been minding their own business on a stack of boxes in the corner. "YUUREI! YUU . . . REI! OI! YUUREI! COME!" Bang. "ON!" Bang. "OUT!" Bang, bang.

"Baka!" A black form wrestled another dark figure to the ground, wrenching the vague shapes of a pot and ladle from its hands. They rolled across the floor with a series of loud booms. The silhouettes of Zoro and Luffy lay entwined together, Zoro's chest heaving with the effort to keep him pinned. His muscles ached and glistened. The guy was strong. "You just told me to be quiet, and you go banging pots and pans around and screaming. We can't set sail in that storm. So we can't get caught." The body under him went limp.

"It's okay. I just thought of something fun to do. Let's make out." You had to admit. He was good at saying the last thing someone expected.

"N-nani?" He must've heard him wrong. He couldn't've said—

"I said, 'Let's make out.'" Zoro felt his heart beat slowly but with greater pressure, greater volume, greater purpose. He couldn't deny its throbbing sound.

"Luffy. Do you know what you just said?"

"Of course! I told you I liked you already, didn't I? Why are you so surprised?"

"I didn't know you meant like that! You should have been specific!" He could feel himself turning a deep shade of red, from his cheeks spreading all the way up to his ears and forehead, and all the way down to his chin. And then, of all things, the stupid guy started laughing at him.

"Shishishi, you look like a beet!" Zoro got up, and seated himself far, far away from his captain, huddled in the corner with a katana in each hand and one in his mouth. Luffy frowned deeply—too deep to be real. His face was rubber, after all. "What're you doing?"

"I'm protecting myself."

"Ah, from the ghost? I didn't know you were scared of ghosts, Zoro." He tilted his head sideways as he considered the thought, a hand cupping his chin. "Don't worry! I'll go kick its ass!" A smile too broad to be allowed, speaking of epic adventure. The swordsman stayed like that, but the captain, who clearly had an attention problem, was already gallivanting off with his pot and pan, looking for the ghost. Zoro didn't even try to stop him. The door slammed.

There was nobody about, ghost or otherwise, while Luffy wandered steep, narrow staircases and wondered if he'd done something wrong. He didn't want to lose the first crewmember he'd gained—but Luffy was a person more in touch with his feelings than his senses. If he liked someone, he didn't feel at all shy about telling them—even if they acted like they hated him, even if they were an enemy. But this was different. He'd never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. This was a different sort of like.

Luffy wasn't that bright with most things, but he was a genius when it came to feelings—so he'd realized it when he first saw the swordsman, even though he didn't know the guy, or why he was tied up to crossed wooden poles. That man could have been a murderer or something, could have fully deserved his punishment—but the beating in Luffy's chest told him otherwise. He knew, in an instant and without knowing why he knew it, exactly _who _Zoro was, and exactly how he felt about him.

_Yosh! _Luffy had decided, right on the spot. _You're gonna be my first mate._ He'd been skeptical about finding a first mate he felt the right way about, partly because he'd never been in love, but mostly because Luffy was greatly misinformed about what, exactly, a first mate was. Despite his feelings, he hadn't thought about kissing him, let alone doing anything beyond that—not until tonight.

The idea came as Zoro had been pinning him down—at the time, he was too annoyed at being pinned to pay attention to what the man said, so he thought about ways to shut him up. His arms were no use, so he considered shoving a foot in his mouth—not that Luffy didn't spend enough time sticking his foot in his own mouth—but then the guy's feet started pressing his ankles.

So he just sat there trying to decide if a headbutt would work, and watching Zoro's lips—the way they moved subtly to form the words that told him off. Then he realized those lips could form kisses as well—he could stop all this chatter by pressing his mouth to the other man's, blocking his voice with his tongue. And that thought made him, unabashedly, very horny.

It was rare for Luffy to be polite, but this seemed like a situation where he should ask first. Looking back on it, he wished he hadn't.

The lighthouse was indeed haunted that night, by a ghost in a straw hat who rattled pots and pans instead of chains, and moaned out the words "boooooored" and "meeeeeeeat" as it wandered alone up and down the stairs. Zoro fell asleep in the corner with all his swords at attention, his mind shuddering with conflicting thoughts.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Icha icha : Make out

Nan de? : Why?

Matte : Wait

Chotto matte : Wait a minute

Yuurei : Ghost


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4—"Till You Love Me or Hate Me!" Luffy's Promise!

Morning light trickled into the lighthouse windows, a reverse-beacon, and lit up the face of a man clenching a katana hilt in his teeth. It was early, probably five, and they needed to get out of there before anyone showed up or the town got too busy and full of people for them to escape. The swords went back into their sheaths, and footsteps coupled the faint yellow light on the stairs. There was his captain, sprawled on the landing outside the door. At least he'd had the decency to not go back in the room after what he'd said.

Still, it made Zoro almost sad to reject him. He was too innocent to know the full weight of what he'd said last night. He seemed so pure, so young, even if he was just two years younger than Zoro. It was a good thing Zoro wasn't the type who would take advantage of him.

The captain's back leaned against the wall, his face peaceful and tilted slightly up, bathed in the same glow as everything—but on him, it somehow looked more noble. Zoro felt himself frown, but it took him a minute to realize what he was frowning at. He felt warm. It was freezing in here, frost on the window panes. Yet he felt warm—and some part of him wanted to let Luffy sleep longer.

He shoved it down. "Oi." An eye twitched, and a hand went up to shade it from the blazing sun.

"Ah! Ohayo!"

"Did you catch your ghost?" Why was he even asking such a pointless thing?

"Nope. I didn't find one." He looked unbearably sad.

"Well, it's alright. If we're going to the Grand Line, I'm sure we'll find one." Zoro mentally winced inside at such a statement coming out of his mouth. He was a complete skeptic of that sort of thing. He didn't know why he'd said _that,_ either—until his silly captain burst into snickers.

"Definitely! But first, let's go solve the mystery of where Zoro put the boat!"

"We need to get food first."

"I already did."

"Where is it?"

"I ate it." He pressed his two index fingers together a few times, looking sheepish, his eyes averted.

"Then we need to get more!"

"But I don't have any money. I spent it all." He had no idea why his captain didn't weigh five hundred pounds. Zoro slapped himself in the face.

"Then we're just gonna have to head for the next island with what we got. We can catch some fish if we get desperate."

"Oh! Let's catch an octopus and make takoyaki!" Fat chance, neither of them could cook.

"Maybe." Why was he playing along with all this? It didn't matter. They had to get to the boat, before someone got to _them._

By the time they'd 'solved the mystery of where Zoro put the boat,' it was already noon. They'd searched every rocky outcropping on the wild half of the island—and were set back when Zoro got lost several times, although he insisted it was all Luffy. Once they got going, and the island vanished from sight, Zoro's mind went back to the words that came out of his captain's mouth the night before.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find as many excuses for not talking to Luffy as possible. Normally, this would be an impossible task—the past few days had taught him that. No matter what he did and how much it wasn't Luffy's business, there would still be constant interruptions of "I'm bored," pokings, and his name being repeated over and over again until he screamed a furious response—to the inexplicable delight of his captain, who evidently couldn't stand to be alone with himself for ten minutes.

But sencho was quiet today—unnaturally so. By night, Zoro was running out of things to do, and they usually spent most of the night talking anyhow. He wished he was tired, but he'd already had twelve naps. That was almost an entire day's worth of sleeping, and even Zoro couldn't be tired after that much sleep. But he still didn't want to talk to the bastard.

The answer came in a sack of flour he found wedged between an empty barrel of sardines and a half-gone barrel of sake. Thinking back on it, he couldn't recall why they had a sack of flour anyhow, if neither of them could cook and they had no stove. He decided it must be a pillow which happened to say "flour" on it, and pulled it over his face, deciding this would thoroughly convey the notion that he was out like a light.

It didn't work.

"Zoro." A poke, making his left eye gently start to twitch. Zoro didn't respond.

The problem with using a sack of flour as a pillow is that it's not a pillow. While a pillow allows anyone antisocial enough to put it over their face enough air to breathe, a sack of flour does not—and after five minutes, he realized it was smothering him. But he couldn't move. If he moved, the captain would know he was awake. He could feel his lungs ache with small stabbing pains, and panic starting to set in, a panic he couldn't control.

A sack of flour flew over the side of the boat, while the person under it gasped and clutched at his throat.

"Daijoubu ka?"

"I'm . . . fine." The killing intent in his eyes said just the opposite.

"Oh, well anyways, I'm glad you're awake! I have something important to say to you. I wanted to say . . . gomenasai."

At first he couldn't understand why Luffy was apologizing for Zoro almost suffocating himself. And then he realized what this was about: last night. "You don't need to apologize. You were just confused."

"I wasn't confused. I meant what I said." The expression on his captain's face was so certain, so determined—and even though he was serious, he was beaming. The moonlight and starlight played across his temples and the bridge of his nose, the same way the morning sun had, making him look filled with delicate power and like he was chiseled from marble. Zoro's cheeks flushed red. "I'm sorry I made you mad. I don't want to lose you, so I won't say things like that anymore. Zoro . . . I love you."

"Teme! Don't apologize for saying things like that and then say them right after!"

"Why? That's how I feel."

"You can't possibly feel like that! We only met a few days ago! We barely know each other!" It was impossible. Feelings like love didn't develop overnight, he knew that—well, at least, he knew that's how it worked for him—but somehow, some part of him refused to just tell the guy off, to say he was leaving when they got to the next island, to shut him out of his soul.

"What are you talking about? I knew it when I first saw you. I decided you'd be my first mate."

"Oi, what exactly do you think a first mate is?"

"I wasn't sure, so I looked up 'mate' in the dictionary." He grinned. Zoro felt his eye twitch again. And again.

"You should have looked up 'first mate,' not 'mate'!" He tried to not picture Luffy trying to look things up in a dictionary. Him clutching any opened book just seemed . . . somehow wrong. Like picturing himself knitting a sweater.

"Why? I know what 'first' means." Luffy's entire face squinched up. He looked unbearably dumb.

"'Mate' and 'first mate' are entirely different things!"

"I changed my mind, you're pissing me off! I'm going to say things like that, even if they make you mad! Because . . ." Any doubt in Luffy's soul had vanished. "Because you still haven't said no. You tell me I'm wrong but you won't say how you feel. So I'm gonna keep trying, till you love me or hate me!"

The only response was stunned silence. And then, he felt himself smirk. Luffy's approach to love was a lot like his approach to a fight—no matter the odds, he was determined to get what he wanted. It felt like they were making a bet—a bet Zoro was sure he could win. "Alright. Try if you want. But I don't love you, baka."

"Do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, either."

"Great! I'll win you over. Shishishi!"

"Oi, I said I don't love you!"

A single eye focused on him, the other shadowed by a hat brim. That small, confident smile made his breath stop. "You will."

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Ohayo : Good morning

Takoyaki : A dish involving minced octopus, formed into balls and skewered

Daijoubu ka? : Are you okay?

Gomenasai : I'm sorry (formal)

Teme : A very rude way to say "you" (equivalent to saying "You bastard," or "You jerk")


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5—A Startling Revelation! Heart and Cheeks on Fire!

The sun broke into that white world of death, and he found himself standing where Kuma had left him, covered in blood. It was horribly cold, but he refused to shake, refused to move, because even moving an inch could end his life. He couldn't walk, he knew that much. If he'd believed in a higher power, he would have prayed someone would come and help, but he didn't, so he just hoped. His vision faded, but he could make out a familiar outline, a tall guy with blond hair. His ears rang, but he could tell by the muffled sounds that he was being spoken to. Although he couldn't hear his own response, he knew what he'd told him: "Nothing happened." The real world left him, and this time was replaced by blackness, silence, and an eternity of falling.

Luffy never found out what Zoro did that day, but as he lay in Chopper's infirmary a few days later, Zoro found something out about himself: Luffy really _had _won—won him over to the point where he was willing to die for him. In the shadows of that death, he'd understood why he was doing this. What this was all for. _Who _this was all for. And now, as he thought back on it, he couldn't push that warm feeling down anymore.

The trouble was, Zoro couldn't figure out what exactly had happened to make this come about.

The captain had never done anything since that vow he made that could be construed as romantic. He hadn't come on to Zoro anymore, or tried to kiss him. He hadn't lavished him with gifts, or done any number of silly, pointless things that came to mind when Luffy had first said that, eventually, Zoro would love him. In fact, Zoro had been under the impression that Luffy had just come to his senses and let the matter drop. Then his heart contracted in a single shudder, along with his pupils, as it dawned on him. _That bastard. He won me over by just being himself?_

He couldn't even consider telling Luffy about this, not yet—he wasn't even sure that he ever would. Maybe it would pass, this strange feeling—maybe it was just a result of caring too much, of being confronted by that shichibukai who swore he'd take his captain's life, while Luffy lay helpless, unconscious, on the ground. Maybe this wasn't even romantic.

The one thing Zoro couldn't stand was internal conflict. He liked inner peace, the quiet respite of escaping into his own mind, in meditation or sleep, or the absence of thinking that comes with clashing swords. He had to find out what this was, so he could categorize it, give it a name—know what to do about it, if anything at all. To find out what it was . . . he would have to let his mind wander places that made him nervous to think about. Through the corridors of his subconscious . . . no, not even that. His heart. And into rooms he'd tried to block off.

A single visualization would solve this once and for all: imagining himself . . . he swallowed, and found it was a very difficult thing to do. Imagining himself kissing Luffy.

He closed his eyes, hands resting behind his head to prop it slightly up, and pictured his captain standing in front of him. It would be nighttime, he decided, with a full moon and stars. The moon was behind him, and shining in Luffy's face like a beacon, as his hat was off. He pictured putting a hand at the small of Luffy's back, another behind his head, fingers running through soft, dark strands of hair.

His vest was open, he thought, and Zoro himself had his shirt off. There were still a few inches of space between their bodies, but they could feel each other's body heat, hear each other's rising pulses. Then their eyes locked. Those eyes. Those mysterious eyes.

They were the last thing he saw before he started to caress Luffy's mouth with his, and feel his captain's lips press back, gentle, soft, slightly wet. When he moved down to the crook of Luffy's neck he heard his own name, moaned in that voice he was so used to hearing. Their bodies shifted slowly, in a dance of pleasure. He ran his fingers up Luffy's spine, and it must have felt electric as his back arched, pressing their chests together. He could feel Luffy's hard dick touching his, a challenge to a sword fight of a different kind, and it made his own dick hard. So hard . . .

Hard.

He really was hard, with no blanket on to conceal it. And that's when the door choose to swing open and someone walked in backwards, then turned around, balancing different plates on his long fingers. He found a sheet and pulled it over himself just in time, though it only took a few seconds of seeing Sanji's ugly mug to make it shrivel like a popped balloon. "What were you smiling about, ero-marimo? You looked creepy."

"N-nani? Shut your face, hentai-cook!"

"Oh, what's that? You said you don't want anything to eat?" An evil grin. "I'll just go away then."

"Please do." A long leg kicked the door open, starting to catch fire in it's owner's pure sense of outrage, and Sanji reeled out, taking the food with him. "Oi! Leave the food!"

"I've decided to give it to Luffy."

"You wouldn't!" The thing Zoro hated the most about Sanji, he suddenly realized, wasn't his snarky attitude, or how much he flirted with anything in a skirt, or his stupid, curly eyebrow. It was what Luffy had said about him when he first laid eyes on that love-cook. _I'm definitely interested in him!_ Those words echoed around in his ears, even though they were produced by a sound that had faded months before.

And then there was his role to Luffy—the Provider of Meat, which probably made him a god, as far as Luffy was concerned. Not to mention the countless times the cook dove in after Luffy when he fell in the sea, before Zoro even got a chance to move. And the time he'd 'had' to give him mouth-to-mouth resusci—

He could feel his fists clench around bandages and rip them off, could feel his broken body lift itself from white cotton sheets and step with heavy footfalls toward the cook.

"Leave the food and go. Before I kill you." Zoro was famous for his murderous intent, which made normal people quiver when he had that feeling pumping through his veins. Sanji didn't even flinch.

"Oh? Are you really that hungry?" He sighed, and shifted a plate to the crook of his left elbow. His right hand produced a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it. "Well. I guess you have been through a lot." The plates clanked gently atop the table. "I can kick your ass later." And he was gone, leaving on a trail of smoke.

_Fuck, _was all he could think. _Was I . . . actually . . . feeling jealous? _If he was honest with himself, he'd have admitted inside that he'd been jealous all along. _And before that . . . _He suddenly remembered what he'd been thinking about before Sanji's rude interruption. _Oh, Luffy . . ._

The days and weeks to come were a very, very embarrassing time for Zoro. The truth was, he'd never been in love. Hell, he'd never had sex. And being around Luffy made him terribly nervous, so as much as he wanted to be near him, he avoided him at all costs, while stupid ideas about how to tell him his feelings simmered in the back of his mind and burned through his cheeks, making them red.

_Luffy. I love you._ That was the honest one. He could try to be indirect about it: _Luffy, stop asking Sanji for his meat, and have some of mine. _No, he'd never get it—he'd just be very disappointed when he found Zoro wasn't hiding a giant steak behind his back. It got worse, as his mind festered in a deluge of pirate pick-up lines, although there was no reason why those should rise to the surface, of all the most idiotic ways to express affection.

_Prepare to be boarded!_

_Wanna shiver me timbers? _

_Pardon me, but would ya mind if I fired me cannon through your porthole? _

No, he wouldn't get any of those either. Damn his stupid captain. It was impossible to be witty around him.

By the time they arrived at Shabaody Island, Zoro was getting very frustrated. Every time he was alone with Luffy and had a chance to do something, say something, _anything, _either someone came and interrupted them or he got horribly nervous and backed out. First, it was when they were alone in the crow's nest of the Sunny Thousand, where Zoro did most of his training. Brooke decided to invade on the premise of being helpful, so Luffy decided he'd go help Sanji by eating everything in the fridge past its expiration date. And the notion of kissing someone who'd just eaten spoiled yogurt-that-was-once-milk kept him away from Luffy for a week more.

It almost slipped three days later, when Luffy and Zoro were alone in the aquarium bar—and then everyone started pouring in for a banquet, laughing and moving around and talking. When Luffy wanted to go to the amusement park at Shabaody Island, he thought that would be the perfect chance—he'd tell him at the top of the Ferris wheel, he thought—but then Brooke, Caimie, Chopper, and that weird starfish . . . thing, all decided to tag along. He didn't even like rides, so it wasn't worth it.

And then everything became a nightmare, which dissipated not with wake, but the sleep that came with Kuma's attack, as it knocked him out and sent him flying far, far away from his crew.

He was stuck with that bitch Perona for what felt like weeks before he decided to press his luck and swim after a passing marine ship. It was dark when he snuck on board, so he saw no need to find a disguise—they'd all be beat up and trying to swim for shore in five, maybe ten minutes. There was no need for a navigator or a log pose—he just followed the movements of Rayleigh's vivre card. Finding Rayleigh was easy. Finding out what had transpired in the past forty-eight hours was not—and for some odd reason, Luffy was currently on an island full of _women, _who would be sending a ship to get him in the next few hours.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Marimo : Moss ball

Hentai : Pervert


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6—A Broken Heart Starts to Heal! "If i Die . . . Smile"!

"Get out of my face!" The most pitiful wails, cries that sounded like they ripped his lungs in breaking out. Screams, in the same voice, and sounds of a wall being busted through by a colossal punch.

"Luffy, I just want to hold you! Please!" A woman's voice, coming from the other side of the door. The wails subsided into sobs, accompanied by the sound of a body hitting the floor, and a scraping noise—nails clawing at something. Then all sounds stopped, until a final burst of agony, a final explosion of raw sorrow.

"I WANT TO DIE!"

He couldn't take it anymore. "What the hell is going on? Just let me in!"

"We must wait for hebehime's permission! These are her private quarters!"

"Fuck that." The door burst open with a colossal kick. Zoro hadn't even bothered to find out if it was locked. The hands of two giant snake women grabbed his arms and pulled them out straight behind him, a foot falling in the middle of his back to keep him pinned and deny him full strength. He didn't care—he was too horrified to even try getting away. All he could do was stay glued to that spot. Even when paralyzed by shock, Zoro was too strong for them to move—too strong for them to displace by the twelve inches required to get him out of the door frame, and slam the door shut. All he could focus on was a vague form sprawled on its side across the floor. It might have been a discarded scrap of cloth, for all the life it possessed. "Luffy!"

He didn't even bother to look up. His customary straw hat was discarded atop a table, his shirt off, leaving only bandages in its place. A woman with dark hair sat on the floor next to him, her cheeks flushed and tears pouring down her face. Her eyes finally drifted up to the stranger's, speaking of complete misery.

"Who are . . . ?"

"His first mate! Get these bitches off me!" Indignant cries at the sexist word. One of them pulled his head back so the other could punch him in the face, a strike going downward as he looked up. He didn't even feel it—but he could move again. His pinned arms flew forward, throwing two fat female snakes into the wall on either side of the door, making them release their grips as they passed out. He ran towards his captain, while other Kuja began storming the place, determined to take him down. "Luffy!"

"Let him go."

Voices cried out in protest behind his back.

"But, hebehime-sama!"

"Did you hear what he just said?

"That kind of insult can't go unpunished!"

"Oh, please don't hurt him! I can't stand the sight of blood!" She was pulling some cutesy act—and they all bought it, even though Zoro was under the impression it was a blatant lie.

"Hai!" Their eyes all became hearts.

"You can leave him with me. I'm sure he's just upset about Luffy. Tend to my sisters." Her eyes seemed more serious now, as footsteps retreated, and the door closed with a hollow thud at his back.

"Who the hell are you?" A hand gently brushed against the cold metal of a hilt. "What are you doing to him?"

She stood. "Don't talk to me like that, you less-than-scum!" Her head tilted back to look down on him, so far that she was looking upward. A finger stretched out, pointing at him in accusation. "I'm the Snake Empress, Boa Hancock! You will address me as hebehime-sama! Learn your place!"

"Yeah, good for you." Zoro smirked. "You still didn't answer my question. What the hell were you doing to him?"

"I—I was just trying to comfort him!" And now she'd gone three-sixty, trying that cutesy routine, of all insults, on _him. _Her boobs practically bounced out of her shirt, eyelashes batting.

"Yeah, well you're not very good at it. Get out."

She was completely taken aback. Never, before Luffy, had any man—or even woman—not fallen for her act. And now there was someone else who had the same power to completely ignore the fact that she was beautiful. "How dare you! This is my room!"

"Then I'm taking him somewhere else!"

"What if he doesn't want to go with you?"

"Then let's ask him! Let him decide what he wants!"

"Luffy." She bent down gently, and pulled him into her arms. That made him seriously want to cut her. The captain was a ragdoll in her hands, head slumped as she tried to pull him into a seated position. "Do you want to stay with me, or go with him?" There was no response—he just stared straight ahead, like his soul had been ripped out, and all that was left was an animated corpse. Then his lips moved.

"Zoro."

"Ah!" She looked like she was going to faint, eyes wide, pupils contracted. A hand clamped to her mouth, while her eyes did their best to hold back tears, but failed. A few sniffles. She wiped her cheeks, hand trembling against her lips, and looked up at the swordsman who towered over the both of them. "I . . . Ii daro," she gasped.

"Luffy. Can you walk?" Silence. "Then I'll just have to carry you." She backed away on her hands, butt, and feet when Zoro bent down to lift him, swinging him over his shoulder, a single hand supporting his back. Complete shock washed her face. "Oh yeah. Almost forgot." He seized the straw hat, draping its tie over the hilts of his katanas, and walked to the door.

Zoro turned, and found himself looking down on the snake empress who crouched at his feet—but not so far down that he was actually looking at the sky. His eyes were very, very dark. "We'll be in my room."

Before showing him where Luffy was, Sandersonia and Marigold had directed Zoro to the room he'd be staying in, which was small and near the front of the second story of the palace. It overlooked a flower garden and a large fountain, while the afternoon sun blazed through speck-free windowpanes, making the white sheets on the bed look like they were spun from gold. He was the first of the crew to find his way to Luffy, just like he'd been the first of his crew to join. He hoped everyone would find their way here soon, so they could leave.

Sencho felt thinner than normal in his arms, and seemed to weigh less when he shifted the other man's weight and lay him down on the bed as gently as he could. All this time he'd been wanting to see his captain again, waiting to see his smile—and he returned to this, this broken, unrecognizable wreck. He took over a chair, and pushed it close to the bed. Dark eyes just stared at the ceiling, hands crossed over a bandaged chest, in a repose mimicking death.

"Luffy. Look at me." He felt his throat start to clench up. Luffy wasn't even responding to him. He decided to keep talking anyhow. "It's not your fault. Ace, he . . . he wouldn't want you to be in so much pain." Those same dark eyes winced, while tears rose up and flowed from their corners.

"Chikushou." It barely came out as a whisper. He rolled over on his side, turning away from Zoro, completely shutting him out. His whole body became tense, blood pouring from his balled fists as his nails dug into the palms they sprung from.

"Luffy! Luffy, stop it!" The swordsman went to the other side of the bed, blocking the sun, throwing Luffy's huddled figure in shadow. Strong hands pressed against the tops of his fingers, forcing them to pull back, revealing four deep gouges in each palm. It must have taken a lot of pressure to make something as dull as fingernails make that deep of a cut. Every attempt to look him in the eyes failed—first Luffy's eyes averted, then he rolled on his stomach and screamed, eyes winced shut, fingers now digging into his skull.

"Luffy, look at me. Look at me!" The roar dissipated, leaving only silence, as he cupped the gentle curve of a pale face in his hands. Their eyes finally took on the same line of vision—and the message Luffy's glance conveyed was unbearably sad. He wished Kuma was here now, and could do that same technique—take all the pain out of Luffy, and put it in him, Zoro, instead. He wasn't—but if he couldn't take it out, he could at least feel it with him. Tears poured hot down his cheeks. He hadn't let himself cry since Kuina's death—but as repressed as Zoro was emotionally, it started with ease. "You think you're the only one who's hurting? You think you're the only one who wants to die? Seeing you like this makes _me_ want to die!"

"Zoro." The captain's eyes closed, his chest heaving deep breaths. A few seconds later they opened, very slightly, and very bloodshot. "Tasukete. Tasukete, kudesai!"

"Shh. Luffy, I'm here." The flesh of Zoro's face felt very hot when he pulled Luffy into his arms, but he didn't care. His soul was unbelievably guilty. What if he'd died, that day that seemed to have been decades before, when he told Kuma to take his life instead? Would Luffy have reacted like this? And who would have suffered more—the one who died, and simply stopped existing—stopped feeling—or Luffy, who was left to carry the burden of knowing it was for him?

No. The living had it better off. Wounds heal, and those who live can act again. There is nothing the dead can do, no matter how much they may have wanted to do something. But still, he couldn't let—anyone else Luffy loved die. Zoro knew he had to get stronger. All of them did—but most especially Luffy.

A face buried itself against his chest, bruised fingers clutching his tear-streaked shirt. "I don't think I can be pirate king, Zoro! I let Ace die! I let him die!" A series of gasps, sobs, chokes—but at least he'd stopped trying to hurt himself. "When you guys all disappeared, I thought you were dead too. I've been so lonely! I don't want to be alone! . . . If . . . trying to be pirate king . . . if that means everyone I love dies—if that means being alone—I don't want it!"

That seriously pissed him off, hearing his captain say those words—but getting mad at him wasn't going to do any good. "Luffy, you can give up on your dream if you want. But whether you were trying to be pirate king or not, Ace would've died. All giving up means is that you have less of a chance to do something!" No, his voice still had that tense sound of hidden anger. He swallowed, and shut his eyes, letting his mind relax to find the words. "If any of us die . . . if I die . . . smile. Smile like you did at your own execution."

He pressed his forehead against Luffy's and tried to breathe, to make the words come out, but they were drowning in tears. "How can you be so selfish? You dying . . . would break so many hearts, and you smiled about it anyways—because you knew it was a good death. You knew you'd died trying. Now Ace is dead, and all you can think about is your own broken heart. But he died protecting you. And I can't imagine he could have had a better death than that."

The captain shifted, and sat up. A rubbery arm stretched across the bed, across the room, and the hand at the end of it landed on a hat. With a determined snap the arm contracted, the hat topping his head with one fell swoop. Then Luffy looked up—looked at the ceiling, or maybe a sky he couldn't see for being indoors—or maybe something beyond _that, _which couldn't be seen even if they went outside. A dazzling grin lighted on the lower half of his face, even though the tears still trickled down.

"Ace!" He shouted. "You're dead! That pisses me off! And when I die. I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Zoro couldn't help but snicker. "You tell him, sencho."

"Shishishishishi!" His smile faded to a smirk, but refused to fall. "Zoro. Arigato." Inside, Zoro felt like a lion, completely proud of himself and fully content. He still didn't know how he'd managed to pull it off—but he'd made that grin he loved fill the captain's face again. He . . . loved Luffy. To the point of ridiculous jealousy. To the brink of death, and the ends of the earth. He had to tell him, and right now—right now felt right.

"Luffy. Do you remember that night at the lighthouse?" He could have meant any lighthouse. They'd been at other lighthouses—and Luffy was the type to forget things that happened yesterday.

"Ah. During the storm. I remember." He sniffled, and wiped his eyes, fingers tracing across a scar shaped like a smile.

"And the night after that?"

"Ah."

"Luffy." The hands tangled with Luffy's were rough from training, but so strong, so warm—so gentle as they pressed against his fingertips. "You won." He looked away, a blush rising in his cheeks, but faintly, not a ridiculous amount of red.

"I won? Ooh, what did I win?"

"You won me." The flush faded, replaced by calm strength. "I've wanted to tell you since before Shabaody. Luffy. I love you." That smile Zoro had somehow conjured on Luffy's face passed from this earth—but something more beautiful took it's place. Zoro hadn't thought that could be possible, but this look on his captain's face was surreal. He looked stunned, but terribly sweet—damp cheeks, lips slightly parted—and such innocent eyes.

"Zoro," he whispered. "Kisushite."

This wasn't the kiss he'd imagined—not the circumstances, or the setting. He hadn't wanted to be comforting Luffy over his brother's death just before it. He'd wanted him to be completely happy—relaxed—his usual goofy self. In spite of that bold show of shouting at an invisible Ace about how he was going to kick his ass, in spite of that smile—he knew Luffy still hadn't healed inside. That this would take time. He only hoped this kiss would help, instead of hurt.

He didn't pull Luffy to him in a flurry of lust, like he'd dreamed—he grasped him gently, with a sense of a desire to protect, while his mouth pressed softly on the slight curves of his lips, gently sucking on them—a moist kiss, but a calm one—a kiss like seaspray, a kiss that was fragile. The palm of a damaged hand caressed the side of Zoro's face, brushing against stubble, and ran down his neck, then across his shoulder, and down his arm, tickling him, the electric feel of the touch making the swordsman shiver. It wasn't Zoro who wound up moving his mouth to other places—instead Luffy did, kissing his cheek, then moving back to suck on his ear, and play with his three gold earrings with his tongue.

Zoro knew it was making him horny, but he didn't care—he'd let Luffy make the moves—let him figure out what to do, and if that was just making out, followed by falling asleep in each other's arms, so be it. Luffy was the one who was fragile now, of all the unimaginable twists of fate. So it was his decision.

That mouth found its way back to Zoro's, and kept kissing him—teasing him, gently licking the corner of his lips, lightly sucking on his bottom lip, then his top one, then both at once. Frenzied breaths eased in and out of that mouth, the chest below it going up and down. The gasps sounded the same as when he used second gear. No wonder Zoro had liked that form so much—that form where Luffy breathed heavily, while steam rolled off his flushed skin. When he first saw it, even then, he knew it turned him on—to which he'd responded by lying to himself and feeling terribly embarrassed. It was worse when he found out that gear took so much out of him.

"I've wanted this for so long," he moaned, and ran his fingers through green tufts of hair. "You have no idea how long."

"Sure I do. Since you first met me." Luffy stopped.

"How did you know?" Zoro mentally slapped himself in the face. In the real world, all he did was sigh heavily. How could Luffy not remember that he'd told him something so deeply personal?

"Because I'm psychic, Luffy."

"Really? Suge!"

"Shh." Zoro pressed a single index finger to Luffy's lips. He didn't like that boisterous yelling of his when they were . . . doing stuff. What if he started shouting worse things? And who knows who could be listening.

"Nan de?" And Luffy proceeded to pick his nose.

This was going to take some getting used to.

"Don't pick your nose when we were just making out!"

"Oh?" Luffy looked down at his finger, which was currently stuck most of the way up one nostril. He frowned. "How'd that get there?"

"Because you put it there!"

The finger came out. "Whoa! This booger is huuuge!"

"Oh god. Why me." It took a lot for Zoro to start talking to God. He buried his face under a pillow. A figure shifted the bedclothes, made springs pop. The crack of a window opening, and then—

"AH!"

"Oops. Wari!"

"MUGIWARA! What did you do to Marigold onee-sama?"

"ARRRRAAAAHHHH! A BOOGER! GET IT OFF ME!"

A series of loud crashes.

"I'll help you, Marigold onee-sama! There, it's off your face now!"

Zoro was currently dying from laughter at what he was picturing. Clearly, Luffy had flicked the booger out the window, and it landed on one of those snake women as they stood about in the garden below. Zoro had to bite the pillow, trying not to laugh too loud lest he encourage Luffy to pick his nose more often. At the same time, he was trying very hard to breathe. But that laughter was nothing compared to how much he would laugh when Sanji showed up ten hours later.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Hebehime : Snake-princess

-sama : An honorific used for someone high and powerful

Hai : Kind of like "Yes, I understand"

Ii daro : Kind of like "It's fine by me"

Chikushou : Dammit

Tasukete : Help

Tasukete kudesai : Kind of like "Please help"

Sencho : Captain

Kisushite: Kiss me

Mugiwara : Straw-hat


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7—Battle of the Jealous Pirates! Zoro v. Hancock!

After the kissing, the bittersweet smiles, and the barely-stifled laughter, Zoro had almost forgotten how sad his captain had looked when he'd been laying there so lifelessly, and when he'd been screaming about how he didn't want to be pirate king. Night cast itself upon the walls and festered across Luffy's heart and mind, bringing with it new tears. This time no words accompanied them—no shocking revelations of wanting to give up on his dreams, or even his own life, because Luffy was asleep.

His face nuzzled against Zoro's chest, damp eyelashes tickling his skin. Zoro himself was also asleep, but just as they had talked to each other in their sleep in the men's quarters, so they did now, even in this strange place and this strange situation.

"Ace," he wept.

"Luffy . . . don't cry."

"Why?"

"Shh, I'm here." Zoro pulled him close, feeling his own cheeks flush as he snored. One of those snores caught in his throat, and lead to a cough, which pushed him to the borders of wake. Quiet sobbing was the only sound, while outside everything bore that stillness and silence that comes with the hour three a.m. The moon waxed huge in the window, like it was spying on them, ringed by an azure sky.

"Shh, Luffy," he moaned sleepily.

"N-no." A gulping sound as the pirate tried to be brave and swallow his tears, but as the nightmare advanced, they wouldn't stop. "Ace. Don't die! Not for me!" A scream pierced the night, while a fist tried to shoot at Luffy's own head—even in slumber he was self-destructive—and landed a blow on Zoro's instead.

"AH!" Zoro bolted upright, his eyes entirely white, jaw gaping. The fist snapped back. It tried again. And this time, it found it's target.

"Why!" Zoro pinned his arms, but he'd already managed to give himself a black eye—and it hadn't even woken him up. "Kill me."

"Luffy. Wake up." Coarse hands gently shook him, while Zoro stared at his bed-mate with stern worry. "Luffy." It didn't work, but rubbery arms had now corkscrewed around his own arms, a leg around one of his own legs. Another leg circled weirdly about his torso, the pressure smushing their bodies together, making Zoro's lips hover inches over Luffy's. A kiss. A kiss would do it.

The moon poured milky light on them as his mouth planted itself on Luffy's. He felt almost guilty, doing this while he was asleep—it felt like the kiss was stolen, taken by force from a man who couldn't say no. His cheeks burned. The catatonic mouth didn't press back, lips frozen in a dream's kingdom. But the sobbing softened, to gentle streams of water trickling down his face.

A knock at the door—and Zoro couldn't move. The doorknob turned. Oh god. They were going to just . . . come in here? When he was tied up by Luffy's body like this? The door creaked open. He thrashed his leg in pointless panic as a light clicked on, filling the room with a very awkward scene. Boa Hancock just stared, trying to understand what was going on.

The covers were over them to the waist, and their shirts were off.

"Zoro," Luffy moaned in his sleep.

"Ah!" she gasped. Zoro turned a horrendous shade of crimson.

"I-IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! HE'S ASLEEP!"

"I-in his sleep even? You rapist! HENTAI!" She shrieked, and proceeded to beat Zoro with open palms as hard as she could, while at the same time trying to avoid hitting Luffy.

"Gah! Yamete!" She hit very hard for a woman, but still, the hits weren't doing much good with respect to getting Zoro _off_ him. She started to pull his leg instead, which didn't do much good either, noting the grip Luffy had established. "AH! You're pulling my leg off!"

"Shut up, rapist! Luffy! Oh, poor Luffy!" That's when Luffy looked up, finally awakened by the excessive commotion.

"Zoro? What's going—" He stopped that thought, evidently deciding he didn't care—and snapped all his limbs back to their original positions. This caused two things to happen. One, Hancock hadn't stopped pulling on Zoro's leg, so the sheer force she'd been producing had nothing to resist it, and he went flying into her. Second, it made the covers come off, and not wanting to see Luffy naked for the first time in a situation like this, Hancock closed her eyes.

In the darkness behind her eyelids, Hancock could feel someone pounce on her, could feel lips press to hers, and in her love-struck blindness, she could only imagine it was Luffy. She blushed, but her eyes flicked open to find—Zoro.

The force of the strong pull towards Hancock had sent Zoro spinning three-sixty in the air, and when he landed, it was on Hancock. What's worse, he had somehow managed to land on her in just such a way as to press their lips together _entirely_ by accident. His eyes went wide with terror, his body entirely paralyzed. She pushed him off her.

"AH! Does your carnal lust never stop, Roronoa Zoro? First you rape Luffy, and now you try to rape me! Mero Mero Mellow!" Her hands formed a heart shape, pink floating hearts popping out, pouring through Zoro's chest, but with absolutely no effect. She balked. "W—how . . . ?"

"ZORO!" a familiar voice roared out somewhere behind his back. "I'm gonna kick your ass!" Hancock smirked.

"Allow me to help you, Luffy."

"Shut up! I'm gonna kick your ass too! Gomu Gomu no . . ."

"Luffy!" Zoro could see where this was going. "It was an accident!"

"Pistol!"

Zoro wanted very badly to leap out of the way, but he still couldn't move. The fist impacted with his face, sending him flying into the wall.

"S-stop it, Luffy! I wasn't—"

"Pistol!" Blood trickled down his lip. That punch had sent him flying into the room next door, but Luffy still didn't stop. "Gatling Gun!" There was nothing Zoro could do but fight him—and his swords were on the other side of the room he'd just been pushed out of. He dodged the next attack, running past Hancock, who lay sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily, tears in her eyes. The swords were within his grasp when an uppercut hit him from behind, throwing him off his feet and onto his face.

He got up, fingers closing around hilts which fit into his hands like they were an extension of his arms, of his soul even. The swords were in his hands and mouth now. Good. But when he looked up, Luffy was just standing there, gasping, tears streaming down his face for the millionth time in the past week. The swords fell. "Luffy . . ."

"Shut up!" The captain's fingers clenched, shook.

Hancock managed to sit up, her face resting in the palms of her hands. It was . . . unthinkable. But he had said he was going to kick her ass. _Hers. _The woman who had helped him, had such strong affection for him—could he even doubt her intentions? Could he really think she'd kissed Zoro _on purpose? _"Luffy," she begged. "I didn't kiss him on purpose! I didn't . . . I didn't." Her massive chest was heaving, her eyes very, very sad.

"Luffy. Hancock. Let's just assume everything was an accident. He pulled me on him when I was asleep! And I . . . I didn't try to kiss you! It just happened!"

The snake empress raised a tired hand to her chest, feeling her own heart pound. It made sense. They weren't naked, like she had first thought—and Luffy'd had his limbs wrapped around Zoro. Zoro had really been the one being held down, evidently by a man who had just randomly tied him up like that in his sleep. How could her faith in her love have fallen so far, that she doubted one of his crewmates, a person he'd hand-picked as a nakama? That she'd speculated back then, when the swordsman first burst into her private quarters, that Luffy was picking Zoro over her?

Luffy had clearly just missed his friend, who he was more familiar with, and wanted to spend time alone with him. She inhaled deeply, trying to regain some dignity and composure, trying to think of an excuse for jumping to such a debauched conclusion—and then she felt her cheeks turn pink when she understood Luffy's reaction to the "kiss." He was jealous of Zoro, thinking the man had been making a move on his . . . his . . .

His woman.

She almost fainted. "Luffy," she gasped. "I'm sorry for making you jealous. But, I believe him. That kiss was an accident." Of course, in Luffy's mind that apology read, _I'm sorry for making you jealous (of me). _He still had no idea what went on in this woman's mind—how she thought her relationship was with him. How she'd misread his lips at Impel Down, and thought he'd mouthed that he loved her.

"It's . . . it's okay, Hancock. Zoro." His face was drenched in shadows as he looked down on them—but even when he lay back on the bed and the chandelier blanched his skin, made light the dark, it was impossible to know what he thought.

"Now what did you come in here for?" Zoro spun a sword in his fingers, the tip impaled slightly in the floor.

"Roronoa Zoro . . . Gomenasai. For what I accused you of." Her head hung low.

"I didn't ask for an apology. I asked what's going on."

"I wanted to tell you, Luffy—another one of your crewmates showed up in Shabaody. We sent the ship to get her a few hours ago, so she should be arriving any moment."

Whatever dark thoughts had been twirling around in the captain's head instantly vanished at the thought of seeing another nakama, and he lurched upright on the bed. "Really? Who is it, Nami or Robin?" A stone settled heavily in Hancock's gut at the mention of her competition. It was bad enough when she'd found out there had been a _third_ woman on his crew who he hadn't mentioned—though she supposed that was a good sign, if Luffy found her forgettable.

"Neither of them." Luffy and Zoro exchanged a glance of confusion. "I think the name was . . . Sanji."

"Sanji? Sanji's not a girl," Luffy noted, and tipped his head to the side. His face was so serious as he tried to work the problem out in his head that it was absurd.

"Sanji got mistaken for a girl?" The smile on Zoro's face refused to die down.

And that's when a silhouette frolicked daintily through the door. Zoro's eyes started at the feet, noting a pair of shiny, red high heels. . . .


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8—Enter Okama Sanji! Zoro is Dead from Laughter!

His eyes travelled up to a pair of legs which would have been rather shapely and attractive, if they weren't badly in need of a shave. _Women around here don't take care of themselves,_ he sighed inside. His eyes rested on the skirt, the painted fingernails, the golden curls flowing down to a pair of narrow elbows. And then—they settled on the face. A cigarette dangled from an enormous pair of red lips. Below that was some manly chin-hair, very much like Sanji's pseudo-beard. Above both those things were . . . eyes a lot like Sanji's, caked in makeup . . . this woman looked a lot like Sanji. And then, Zoro noticed it.

A curly eyebrow.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" All he could do was point, while his eyes watered. He caught his breath, and looked at Sanji again.

"Aha . . . aha . . . AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He was seriously going to choke to death, his peals of laughter descending into desperate gasps and coughs. This was just too funny. This was epic. He had no idea who had done this to him, but he wanted to thank them. This was the best thing ever. This was grand.

Sanji looked indignant. "Baka marimo!" He . . . she? . . . roared, and kicked him squarely in the face, knocking him back to stare up under a frilly pink skirt.

"P—p—panties? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It was even better when Sanji blushed and pulled down his skirt, bent awkwardly to try and preserve his modesty. Zoro was dying. He was going to die here, suffocated in snickers.

"Hmm." Luffy frowned. "What's so funny?" He decided it wasn't important. "Oi, Sanji! How you been?"

"L—Luffy! Baka! Aha . . . didn't you notice? Ahahahahaha. He's dressed like a girl!"

"Really?" Luffy stepped back to examine his cook, a finger and thumb cupping his chin as his eyes narrowed. And then. "SHISHISHISHISHISHISHI! OH MY GOD! SANJI, YOU'RE TOO FUNNY! SHISHISHISHISHISHISHI!" Sanji's fist's clenched at his sides as his whole body caught fire.

"Teme!" He screamed, and kicked Luffy in the jaw. Luffy didn't care. He couldn't stop laughing either, as he grabbed his aching sides and rolled around. "SHISHISHISHISHI!"

Hancock couldn't tell what exactly was going on, but these two were clearly being disrespectful. She felt sorry for the poor girl. Though she was a bit . . . funky looking. No wonder Luffy hadn't bothered to mention her. But . . . no, it didn't matter. No man should treat a woman this way! She rose to greet the blushing girl, extending a warm hand, with thin, graceful fingers.

"I am the Snake Empress, Boa Hancock. You will refer to me as hebehime-sama."

"I'm . . ." Sanji's cigarette fell to the ground. His eyes stared at hers, transfixed. "I'm . . ." Two trembling hands reached out to grab her own. "IN LOOOOVE!" Hearts filled the pitiful thing's eyes. "HEBEHIME-SWAAAAMAAAA!"

"You're gonna put the moves on her dressed like _that?_ AHAHAHAHA—"

"SHISHISHISHISHI!"

"AHAHAHAHAHA!"

"SHISHISHI!"

A girl with short blond hair and bangs which almost covered her eyes came running up, standing just outside the door. "Hebehime-sama. We have received an important call from Shakky! Apparently, over the past three hours . . . all the remaining Straw Hats have met up at Shabaody Island!"

Sanji stopped groping Hancock with his eyes, to mentally grope Nami and Robin instead. "R-really? NAMI-SWAAAAN! ROBIN CHWAAAN!"

"Oh!" Luffy gasped between big guffaws. "That's great!"

"Would you like me to send the boat after them, Luffy?"

"Sure!"

The blond girl nodded. "We'll depart immediately, hebehime-sama." Sanji looked from the two laughing idiots to the buxom beauty who was the snake empress to the cute girl who was grinning at him. He wanted to stay with hebehime-swama forever. But if it meant getting away from those two retards for a few hours—"Please, take me with you!"

"Please do!" Zoro shouted after, while he and Luffy continued to roll about in gut-busting laughter.

Through some mysterious luck, Frankie, Chopper, and Brooke had arrived at Shakky's Rip-off Bar all at the same time, and were shortly joined by Nami, then Robin, then Usopp. According to Shakky, they'd just missed Sanji, who (she informed them with a wicked smile) had something new and surprising about him. Pestering produced no response.

"Is it a new attack?" Chopper wanted to know.

"Oh! Did he get fat too?" Usopp asked, as he patted his large stomach.

"I'm not telling you." That same taunting smile.

"He's . . . not hurt, is he?" Nami looked on the verge of tears, not for the first time that day. "After what happened to poor Ace . . and poor Luffy . . ." Shakky only shook her head.

"You'll see." Then Rayleigh walked in, and since Shakky wouldn't tell them, Usopp, Chopper, and Nami started to pester _him_ about it, begging to know what was this big, mysterious new thing involving Sanji.

"I have no idea, I've been out gambling all day. And that woman will never tell you." Shakky gave him a knowing smile.

Four hours later, it was announced that the Kuja pirate ship was docked in the ocean a few miles away from Shabaody—this had been the protocol they'd carried out when they picked up Zoro and Sanji as well, because the Shabaody Archipelago was currently in a lot of turmoil, and rumors were going around that Hancock might have been an insider in the prison break at Impel Down. So the Rosy Life Riders brought them to the boat, which was massive, and drawn by sea serpents.

The first thing each of the Straw Hat pirates noticed when they got on board was the size of the place—it made the Thousand Sunny look like an ant in comparison. The second thing they noticed was . . .

"Nami-swan! Robin-chwan!" Everyone stared, unsure of who this strange girl running up to them was—or even if it was a girl, and how she knew Nami and Robin. A closer inspection revealed that this was _far_ from being a lady, as a face with enormous red fish lips appeared out of the dark like someone's nightmare.

"An . . . okama," Nami decided.

"Mmm. An okama," Frankie agreed.

"Why an okama?" Usopp wanted to know.

Then Chopper got on the boat, looked around, and focused on the girl, who clearly seemed to know them. Chopper's eyes locked on the eyes of the feminine figure. "An . . . okama." There was something familiar about this person, but he couldn't put his hoof on it. Something . . . then it clicked, and his eye became saucers. "Th-that's—" Every hair on his body stood on end, as he lifted a hoof, to point in accusation. "That's—S—S—SANJI!" And Chopper fainted, little X's forming in place of his eyes.

Everyone agreed about what this meant, and they all announced it at the same time. "WAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Nami was busy running around, her legs like jelly. Frankie was sobbing—and Usopp looked like he'd just shit a brick. Robin just lol'd.

"Sanji, bro!" Frankie wailed. "Who did this to you? How can they mess with a man's pride?"

"Ah!" Usopp mimicked, and slammed a fist into an opened palm. "A man's pride!"

Frankie clamped the dress-wearing cook firmly in his massive forearms. "Who did this?" he bawled. "Tell me!"

"I did!" Sanji looked beyond mad. His cheeks flushed the color of ketchup, while he took a drag of his cigarette.

There was no delay before Frankie released him. "Oh." He coughed, and backed up. "Well, then . . ."

It was at this moment that Brook's afro-wearing skull rose over the edge of the boat. The majority of the crew had their backs turned to him—all except for someone he didn't recognize, a girlish figure clad in a frilly pink dress. Her face was shielded by shadows, but the shape of her body looked quite graceful to him, as he was too far back to see the leg-hair.

"My lady!" He gasped. "My eyes are popping out at such a dazzling beauty. Although I don't have any eyes! SKULL JOOOOKE! YOHOHOHOHO! May I see your—" Nami and Robin put their hands over his mouth just in time to keep him from finishing that thought, and pulled him away to a corner.

"That's not a lady," Robin decided.

"No. It's definitely not," Nami verified, backing her up. Their hands released Brooke's skeletal jaw.

"AH! IT SERIOUSLY ISN'T? . . . Then what . . . ?"

"It's Sanji," Nami sighed.

Robin nodded. "It's definitely Sanji. I guess we know what that 'surprising new development' was." Brooke's head cranked a little to the left. Then a little more. A little more—until at last he was staring at . . . Sanji. His jaw fell to the ground with a rattle, landing at his feet. No part of Brook moved in any way, not even when Robin passed a hand back and forth in front of his eyes. "He passed out."

Nami sighed irritably, and bent down to pick the jaw up. She had to get on her knees and look upward into the roof of his mouth to hook it back in place. That was easy enough. Getting up after was the trouble, because (as Sanji could verify), it's very hard to go about in high heels.

"Ah, Robin. Would you mind . . . ?"

"Not at all, nabigeda-san." A hand stretched out to pull her up—perhaps with a pinch too much strength, because Nami flew forward towards Robin, who now looked very surprised. _Am I really that strong? Or does Nami just . . . weigh less than me? _The thought irritated her, circling round in her head as Nami's face came flying into her boobs. In her unsteady attempts to balance, Nami's hands came to rest on Robin's butt.

"OH, NAMI-SWAAAAN! What are you doing to R-Robin-chwan? OH! Let's have a slumber party and do that together!" Blood spurted from his nose.

"Clutch!"

The shadows cast on the walls told of a man in a dress having his spine bent out of shape by a dozen mysterious hands. His mouth cracked open.

"AAAHHHHHH! MY SPINE!" His limp form wilted to the ground.

"He's too much to take like that," Nami, now out of Robin's boobs, commented.

"We may have to kill him," Robin concluded.

* * *

Glossary

Okama : Drag queen

Nabigeda : Japanese pronunciation of "navigator"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Hancock's Confession! A Glass Heart Shatters!

A party that lasted three days began as soon as the Straw Hats arrived, and it was agreed that at the end of those three days the Kuja would make one final trip to Shabaody—to drop them off at the Thousand Sunny. Everything that had transpired between Zoro, Luffy, and Hancock had been forgotten—at least, two of them had forgotten about it, mostly due to Hancock's continued absence. On the evening of the second day, Luffy finally noticed that the hostess was missing, and left the boisterous crowd to find her, chopsticks still stuck in his nose.

Hancock wasn't sick, not exactly, but her sisters and those who knew about the situation were concerned nevertheless. She wasn't fainting and feverish, confined to bed—but she had confined herself to her room, and was failing to both eat and sleep. She knew Luffy and his crew would be leaving soon, and she was trying to decide what, and how, to tell him.

Sandaled feet ran down a corridor and up to the entrance of her chambers. Despite the booger incident, Marigold and Sandersonia, who were waiting around outside her door, looked relieved to see him.

"Luffy. I'll find out if she wants to—"

"What are you talking about?" Sandersonia gasped. "Of course she wants to see him!" A huge hand cranked the golden knob open, revealing a darkened rectangle inside.

"Why are the lights off? Oh! Is she sick?"

"You could say that." The door closed behind him. He couldn't recognize her shape in the dim vagueness—couldn't tell where she was, so he decided to shout.

"OI! HANCOCK!"

A figure laying on the bed shifted its long, pale, naked legs to sit up. Her eyes were very wide, very white, and at last he realized where she was. "L-Luffy?" she gasped. "What are you—"

"You're missing out on all the meat! Don't you like meat?" She stood, and as his eyes adjusted he could tell she was naked. It didn't faze him. "And Brooke's playing music! And everyone's laughing and dancing!" She stepped closer to him, stopping in front of him, looking down into his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, making him look uncertain.

She had to tell him now. Right now, before her boldness disappeared, because it might never come again before they took off. But there was something she had to know first, something which had been nagging at her. She knew she wasn't wrong. But something kept her doubting her own eyes, and the words they had seen form on his lips as he hung upside-down in the rafters of Impel Down.

"Luffy. Before you went inside the prison—do you remember what the last thing you said to me was?"

"Hmm." That stupid frown was breaking her heart—but then his eyes met hers, intense, bright against the dark. Her heart pounded in her chest. And then: "Nope." She fell to the floor, dark ethers wafting from her entire being in her sorrow. No, she had to be more clear. She looked up, a fist pressed against her heart, while the single arm supporting her upper body tensed.

"Luffy, you mouthed something to me. I know it . . . why are you picking your nose?"

"I'm thinking. It helps me think." A big, stupid grin.

"Luffy, be serious!"

"I am being serious! What're you so mad about?"

"In Impel Down, did you . . . or didn't you . . ." She was losing her resolve. The words caught in her throat. She couldn't bring herself to be direct. "Do you remember mouthing something to me, before you disappeared?"

"Oh, that! Ah."

"What was it?" Her fingers shook. She was scared—she'd never felt so scared in her entire life, not even as a slave, knowing she was about to be beaten.

"'Arigato.'" A small smile. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"I . . . yes, that's fine." She was numb. Completely numb.

"So, you gonna come down now? You've gotta try this meat! I got some in my pocket, but you can't have that, 'cause it's mine."

"No, I think I'll stay here."

"Aw. Are you sick?"

"N-no. Well, I . . . maybe."

He seemed to be considering something he didn't like, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. "Hancock. Do you like meat?" What kind of a question was . . . it didn't matter. She was too weak to think about it.

"I . . . yes."

"Then here you go." He produced a mutton chop from his pocket, covered in lint, but it was still a sweet gesture. "Eating what you like makes you feel better!" Her spirit was torn—he hadn't said it, not what she'd thought he'd said, and that made her question how he felt all over again. He turned to go, a hand atop that trademark straw hat—then for an instant, he looked back, his face cast in a giant's grin. "Feel better!" The mutton felt heavy in her hand. Mutton . . . his mutton . . . he'd . . . given her some of his precious meat? She inhaled a sharp breath. _Luffy. You really do . . . _The door closed.

"MATTE!" A robe slipped over her naked body in a whirlwind, bare feet rampaging across the wooden floorboards. The door flew open—but he wasn't there. Sandersonia and Marigold looked on with doubt. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

"Back downstairs." The stairs curved as she raced down their descending spiral, but everything felt slowed down. Her heart beat once every minute. Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub. They were having the party in the ball room. It appeared before her in a compact rectangle: baking lights, the scent of food and piano notes wafting on the air. On the other side of the open doors stood Luffy, looking around for something, she didn't know what. Whatever it was, he spotted it with a small, nasal smirk. An arm launched itself, a hand grabbing onto a distant chandelier.

"L-Luffy!" she gasped, her hand closing in on him.

"Hmm?" He turned, and in turning, was rocketed across the sky. He was so far away from her. Too far away, hanging upside-down from a swaying chandelier like a monkey. Everyone had turned to stare at her when she had called out, lights and eyes putting all focus on her. Voices murmured her name, recognizing her presence. Her heart crawled up her throat, but she swallowed it back down. She had to tell him, now, even if it was in front of everyone. _Now._

"Luffy!" she screamed. "I LOVE YOU!"

Those who hadn't been staring turned, and did. Inside of each mind rested quiet shock. Luffy fell off the chandelier and into a vat of boiling soup.

"ITAI! HOT! HOT! HOT!" he shrieked, flailing about in the cauldron, his eyes entirely white.

"Teme! How am I supposed to serve this now?" Sanji screamed, and kicked the vat over, spilling Luffy and ten gallons of steaming shrimp bisque. The later clutched at his head, while the soup remained in contact with his skin, and continued to burn.

"MIZU!" he begged, fingers clawing an empty space in the air.

"Mizu?" Nami thought aloud. And then it hit her. She stood, clutching the Clima Tact in her skillful hands—she'd never done this indoors, but was sure it would work. "Cloudy Tempo!" Thin wisps of smoke curdled in the air, swirling together to form a small cloud, which grew to fill the entire room, from one corner of the ceiling to the other—and then it rained, literally dampening the whole party. Basically everyone left, aside from Boa Hancock, and the Straw Hat crew. Luffy just lay on his back, gasping as the boiling soup washed off him. At last the clouds dissipated, and he stood up and brushed excess water off his vest.

"Ah! I thought I was gonna die. Shishishi! Arigato, Nami."

"Don't thank me, baka! Clean this up!"

"But this mess is huuuuuge!"

"Well, you made it!"

"But I don't know how to clean." She hit him upside the head.

"ITAI! . . . Amazing! I suddenly learned!" There were stars in his eyes.

"So Luffy gets smarter when he gets brain damage," Zoro contemplated.

And then Luffy started trying to clean the floor with a loaf of bread.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nami wanted to know. He lifted the bread, revealing it was covered in soup. And then he ate it.

"See?" he asked, mouth full. "If I dip bread in the soup and eat it, it'll all get cleaned up! MORE BREAD!" he sang. "BRING MORE BREAD!"

"That'll take forever! Use a mop, for god's sake!"

"But I don't wanna eat a mop!"

"I never said to eat—and that soup's all watery anyways! And it's been on the floor! That's so gross Luffy, why would you want to eat it?"

"What're you talking about?" he laughed, munching on more soggy, slightly-soupy bread. "This stuff is great!"

Zoro was totally not kissing him. It'd be at least a month.

"Oi, Luffy," Usopp asked, pointing at a crumpled figure on the distant steps. "Is she alright?" Those words made it all come back to him. _Luffy! I LOVE YOU!_ A completely serious expression filled his face, and he got up from the floor, tipping his hat down to shade his eyes. Sandals pattered across the sopping floor, coming to a stop five feet from where Hancock lay, breathing heavily, tears flowing down her very, very red face. With one fell swoop he bent down, and grabbed her wilted hand in his. Zoro felt his fingers caress metal, but then he let his hand fall away from the hilts. _No, _he thought. _Luffy. I trust you. _

Usopp, Nami, Robin, Brooke, Franky, and Chopper all had the same idea in mind, and had the same opinion on it as well: _Way to go, Luffy!_ Only Sanji felt like shit. He thought back on all those women he tried so desperately to please, and now, this idiot had the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen screaming how she loved him, and collapsing at his feet. He'd already turned into an okama. _That's it,_ he decided. A cigarette dangled from his fingers. _I'm done with women! I'll never fall for another woman again! I wonder if Zoro . . . _

"Hancock." The hat tilted back, revealing twin smiling eyes above a gentle smirk. "I love you too." Zoro inhaled so quickly and so deep that it almost exploded his lungs. "But . . . not the same way." That same breath hissed out in relief. The rest of the crew just stared in complete shock. Hancock herself was crying now—wailing, beating her hands against the wall. Zoro didn't want to see this—he didn't like the woman, but it was hard to watch—especially when he kept flinching when Luffy touched her.

"I'm going outside," he told Nami, who nodded.

Franky coughed. "I'll join you." Brooke, Chopper, and Usopp followed. Nami and Robin sat together and tried to come up with some solution, while Sanji just balked, unable to believe that Luffy had just turned such a gorgeous woman down, when she was throwing herself at him, practically suicidal at being rejected. It reminded him of . . . himself. He knew he was good-looking—strong—a talented cook—treated women with respect. And yet all the refusals, as if he were some disgusting creep. It made no more sense to him than this did.

The look on her face was truly pitiful, her voice cracking with sobs. "Chikushou!" Luffy looked lost, and tried to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Why?" The whites of her eyes were bloodshot as they roved over to take a quick glance at the subject of her unrequited love. They fell to the ground instead, or lower, to the deepest levels of hell. "Why don't you love me? Don't you think I'm beautiful?"

"No," Luffy frowned. "Why would I think that?"

"I'm . . . I'm . . . I'M UGLY!" A shattering scream, while Hancock headbutted the cold, blank, impersonal surface of a wall.

"Ah, stop that!" the captain begged, wrapping his hands around her, fingers stretched out, trying to hold her still. "You're not ugly either! I just, think you're you! You're my friend! Stop hurting yourself!"

"WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME?"

The words echoed, and made Sanji able to move again. He ran, rage pumping through his veins, making his eyes blind, his mind mute. "ANTI-MANNER KICK COURSE!" The scent of burning. The flickering of a wildfire. They were the last things Luffy saw before the sharp toe of a black high-heel smacked him in the face, making him fly up the stairs, landing at an awkward angle on jagged steps.

"Sanji," he gasped, sitting up. His dry throat swallowed. "I deserved that." A hand scooped up his hat, but didn't put it on his head. "Gomenasai, Hancock." And then he left, leaving nothing behind but an empty room wet with rain and tears. Nami and Robin had decided that this was beyond them, and followed, leaving Sanji and Hancock alone.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note:_

_WARNING! The following chapter contains a __**HETEROSEXUAL PAIRING**__. If you are offended by man-on-woman action, STOP!_

_Please continue to Chapter 11 to avoid this __**HETEROSEXUAL PAIRING**__. _

_I promise that I will clean up my act by that chapter, which shall contain good-old-fashioned man-on-man butt-fucking, the way God intended. _

_YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED._

_~LJ_

* * *

Chapter 10: Clash of the Lovebirds! Sanji and Hancock!

She wept steadily. He sat down a few feet from her on the steps, and lit a cigarette.

The past few days, as far as Sanji was concerned, had been sheer hell. No, even before that, he thought, he'd been in hell—finding Kambakka Kingdom, at first, had been the most horrifying experience of his life, till he just let go and admitted that yes, he, Sanji, manliest of men, liked putting on dresses and makeup. Getting back with his crew had been worse. The snickers, the jokes at his expense—they were too much. Finding out about Ace dying, and what had transpired at Impel Down and Marineford, those had also been unbearable. And then there had been all the minor annoyances, like when he was cooking and his wig caught fire (that was gone now, hair back to normal), and when he cut himself twenty places shaving his legs. But this was different. This hit home.

"Shitty bastard doesn't know what he just turned down," he mumbled, trying not to look at her, lest he fall for a rejected woman and get rejected by _her _in turn. His skin sizzled as the flames died out. She had nothing to respond with—there was nothing she could say to that. So he continued. "Do you know _why_ I'm dressed like this? Because I gave up."

". . . Gave up?" she asked weakly.

"On women."

"Oh." She seemed confused.

"You just got rejected by one man. Do you know what it's like to be rejected by the entire female sex?" A vague feeling of heat told him the cigarette was down to the filter, burning his fingers. He'd smoked that one fast. The stub landed in a nearby ashtray, marked with a slight coating of lip-gloss, just like his lips were. He'd toned down the makeup over the past few days. It was mostly due to peer pressure. "Look . . . it's not about me. My love life is over. Fuck. It never began. The point is . . . Luffy's one guy. And a damn shitty one. Find someone else."

She sat up, arms circled around her knees, eyes widening at the horrifying thing he'd just said. "But I . . . love him," she managed, although her voice and eyes fell as she listened to herself say it. That earned a wry smile of recollection from Sanji. Wasn't that the word he'd used, every time he met a hot girl? Including the one he was talking t—he almost turned to look at her, but stopped himself. Another cigarette was produced to calm his nerves. He couldn't let himself look, or he'd have a visual heart-attack and start clinging to her, shouting how he was in love himself.

Love. What the hell did that mean, anyways? The wry smile was back again, as smoke trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"No you don't. You're just horny."

"WHAT? How dare you accuse me of such debased—"

"Oh, admit it." He felt like he was having a conversation with himself. "You should. It'll make things easier for you. . . . I . . . wish I'd admitted it." Hancock frowned, and thought back on all her experiences with Luffy—thought about when she first realized she liked him. Slowly, it dawned on her, the words she'd just used in her own mind, to describe her own feeling: _liked. No, _she firmly told herself. _I love him! I . . . love . . . how he treats me. _He was the only one she could talk to equally. The only one she couldn't push around, and that made her want to try and win his affections—everyone else . . . was just too easy.

Even as she thought this, she realized it was a blatant lie. Luffy wasn't the only person who failed to fall for her charms. His first mate sure as hell hadn't. And this okama-cook was treating her as an equal right now, not a goddess. So maybe there were others—maybe . . . Sanji was right.

". . . It's true." A sigh, and her tone was bitter, obviously not liking the revelation. "But, so what? He makes me happy!"

A gentle laugh. _"Happy."_

"Don't mock me! I . . . I need him!"

"Avez besoin d'un putain de bon." Hancock was taken aback by that smile, so pleased at enunciating a foul word—he'd said it in French, probably so she wouldn't understand it—but she understood French quite well: _You need a good fucking. _He took a slow, bitter drag of his cigarette, seeming so cool, until she responded back in his native tongue.

"Je parle français."

His whole body stiffened, hands shaking, the only response he could think of coming out in a small, terrified gasp. ". . . Merde!" The panic in his face was thoroughly amusing her.

"So all I need is a good fucking, hmm? That'll solve everything?" She could feel a smile playing on her lips, refusing to fade. She couldn't believe what she was thinking—but he was actually quite handsome, now that all that okama business had faded—she'd actually been shocked to find out he was a man, mostly because, in her limited experiences with the outside world, she'd never met an okama. Sanji was mostly back to his old self regarding looks—same hair as he'd had before, subtler makeup thanks to Nami's advice—just eyeliner and a shimmer to his lips. Even in that tight black dress he looked attractive.

"Gomena—"

"Well, maybe you're right. Baise moi."

Sanji's entire being became rigid—including lower regions. Even if he wasn't looking at her, that voice, that seductive, feminine voice . . . his head turned, and he got a good look at those half-opened eyes with their long, dark lashes, the aroused flush, her supple breasts half-exposed by a drooping robe. But her tears had dried, leaving in their stead a faint smile.

"HAI! HEBEHIME-SWAMA!"

He was like an excited puppy, she thought, as hearts filled his eyes—and just like a dog chasing a car. Now that he'd got it, he had no idea what to do with it. He just sat there, feeling on the verge of faint, blood pouring from his nose. She felt bad—she had thought she was so deeply in love with Luffy, so loyal to him and only him. What was she doing, saying things like that to this guy, who was now reacting just like her followers did?

"If you act like a dog, I'll treat you like one!" she roared, standing and pressing his head to the floor with her bare foot. Her neck craned back as she looked down-on-him-at-the-sky. "Don't fawn over me! I forbid it!"

He had to get a hold of himself—it was obvious this was what she hated—obvious that if he allowed himself to be overwhelmed by her, she would hate _him. _It would make it easier if he could look away, but with her foot pinning his head like that he couldn't. He couldn't see up the robe—just a mysterious blackness—and that's when he decided: _I'll pretend you're an okama. _It was a difficult belief to force himself into, with her girlish face and large breasts. It might be easier if he closed his eyes at first, until the notion became more familiar. He did, and inhaled deeply, picturing creepy images to make himself stop having a hard-on (like fat old men in women's bathing suits—he might enjoy dressing up like that himself, but it didn't turn him on).

". . . Boa Hancock-sama." His voice came out like he was addressing a guy he didn't have any particular beef with. "Gomenasai. I let you see how desperate I am." The toes moved, and he sat up, eyes now open. _Hancock is a man. Hancock is a man. Hancock is a very ugly man. _Those words became his mantra inside his head. She looked horrified.

"Is this what I'll become? Is that desperation . . . what unrequited love leads to?" She didn't know it, but she was already feeling pretty desperate. He lay back on the steps, taking a slow drag of his cig as he stared at the ceiling. His long, thin legs were splayed, and she could see up his short skirt—he was wearing a black lace thong which didn't properly hold all he had to offer. A hot blush rose in her cheeks.

"Most definitely."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him up, dragging him behind her up the stairs. "Then come with me. We'll put an end to this. For both of us." He wanted to scream mellorine, and fall to his knees, hugging her legs in a death-grip. That feeling got pushed down by waves of a loud, rapid shouting in his mind: _Hancock's a man! Hancock's a man! Hancock's a man! _They were at the second floor, the third. They were in front of her chambers, and nobody was about—then they were inside. The door closed.

Her lips were full and wet as they kissed his, her hands roving with lust over his thin frame, stroking long fingers down his chest. It was easy enough with his eyes closed—it felt good, too good, his heart beating like a hummingbird's wings, but he could imagine she was someone less attractive if he kept his eyes shut. _You are Zoro, _he decided. The moan tickling into his ear didn't sound like Zoro, but he ignored it. It was when she stopped kissing him, when she bent down to pull up his dress, that his eyes flicked open, settling exactly on her robust cleavage.

"MELLORINE!" he squealed, before his heart-shaped eyes flashed closed. He backed up, breathing steadily. _I'm not with a woman. This is a man. This is a man. _His pulse slowed down. "Hancock," he gasped, eyes still shut. "Blindfold me. When I see you . . . I . . . I can't control myself. I'm losing control." He fell to his knees, eyes still squinched shut as he bit his tongue till blood poured out, trying to keep himself from pouncing on her in raw lust.

The sash slipped from her robe, throwing it open. He could tell by the rustling of the fabric that it had fallen to the floor, leaving her entirely exposed. A strip of satin fell across his eyes, his face engulfed in her breasts as she tied it behind his head, making his toes curl. She stood. Seeing him like that, mostly naked, blindfolded, submissive as he cowered at her feet—this was nearly how she'd imagined things would be with . . . with Luffy, once she'd won his affections—once she'd dominated him. She gasped, and pulled him to his feet, then guided him to the bed.

"Sanji," she begged, stroking the pads of her fingers across a nipple. "Kiss me." It was a frantic kiss at first, and slightly too rough, but he emptied his mind of all thoughts, all images, trying to find some form of calm. His breathing slowed, and the kisses became gentle, skillful, with a slight taste of smoke. Hot breath flowed across her collar bone as he moved down to kiss her neck, as she felt his body move about, legs shifting as his hard dick pressed against her clit, nothing separating them but that black lace thong. They were both so wet. A moan escaped her lips as his tongue found her nipple, as his hands played softly with her breasts. Her face was no longer burning up, and he was no longer wanting to scream mellorine. He pulled the blindfold from his face with a single fluid motion, freeing one eye to lock with hers, the other hidden behind strands of blond bangs.

The look in that eye . . . was somehow peaceful. His fingers knit with hers, and he sat up, pulling her against him. His chest steadily rose and fell. "What do you need me to do?" His voice was gentle.

"I need you inside me," she begged. The thong fell to the floor, while the curvy form of a female silhouette lay back against a mountain of pillows, and the angular form of a male outline lay down on top her. His eyes closed, lips caressing hers with gentle sucks as he slid inside her, his hips rocking slowly as he restrained himself with a sense of devotion. He needed this to feel good for her. It wasn't about him anymore—he'd realized that a few minutes back, when he'd forced his mind to calm, to quiet. That realization had given him the strength he needed.

Her lips slightly parted, letting his name slip through them, the sound making vibrations which played across their smooth surface and felt like a kiss. He held her close, an arm protectively curved around the small of her back, another behind her head, his fingers woven through silky, dark hair. She grabbed at his back, feeling lean muscle and ribs, sliding down to rest a hand on the back of his thigh. Her entire mind, entire body, were beyond her control now—he was paralyzing her with that steady gaze, the way he danced inside her. She couldn't control her hips anymore, as they pressed upward against his, beckoning him to go deeper.

They got off in unison, in a loud howling of fever, sweat, grabbing hands, and bursting hearts, bodies seizing up in frenzy, making them push closer, deeper, faster. Waves of pure delight—and neither of them could break the union of their vision. Those waves lulled gently, then dissipated, and Sanji stopped moving, but stayed in her. A hand reached up, played gingerly with a strand of her long, dark, chopped-off bangs. A kiss, a simple kiss—and it somehow felt more powerful than all their lovemaking had, filling his delicate ribcage with warmth, placing a light fluttering inside her gently rising and falling bosom.

"Hancock," he whispered. "I . . . think I love you." As easily as he fell in love, as much as he thought he knew on the subject, nothing before had ever felt like this—and that calm refused to die down.

His words made it dawn on her—this sensation, even after she'd already got off, was fully satisfied—it was nothing like what she'd felt for Luffy. This wasn't a desperate, painful longing—it was quiet happiness. "I think I feel the same."

* * *

Glossary

French : English

Avez besoin d'un putain de bon : You need a good fucking*

Je parle français : I speak French

Merde : Shit

Baise moi : Fuck me

*Author's Note: It was very hard to figure out how to say this in French, and while I'm pretty certain that's how you say it, I could be wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: A Nakama Lost, a Nakama Gained! Back on the Thousand Sunny!

It was _that _morning, the one where, at five a.m., the Straw Hat pirates would depart for Shabaody Island aboard the Kuja pirate ship, and the Kuja would be rid of them—not that they wanted to be. In fact it made a lot of them sad to see the departure nearing—most especially Sanji. Hancock was worried about it too, but nothing had passed between them regarding the event, as when they were together they focused on nothing but pleasant conversation, food, and sex. Neither of them had told a soul about their affair, but it was obvious to anyone both incredibly perceptive and unforgivably nosy: in other words, Nami and Robin.

Despite what had transpired between her and Luffy, Hancock got aboard the vessel anyways before it headed off, mostly so she and Sanji could make out in the hold. She had things she wanted to tell him, but his words when they spoke so honestly to each other on the steps leading to an empty, wet ballroom still hung in her mind, and she knew he was right. With Luffy, she'd just been horny, no matter how much she called it love. It was possibly the same situation with Sanji, although something she couldn't quite name told her otherwise.

A sharp knock at the trap-door over their heads. "Hebehime-sama, the Rosy Life Riders are approaching."

She pulled away from his mouth to utter a response. "Ah. Arigato." Footsteps sounded, then faded. "I guess we should say our goodbyes, then." Her voice was level and calm. He glanced at her, now entirely back to his old self with regard to clothing—but entirely unlike he'd ever been with the look in his eyes. They no longer formed hearts when he took in her face. He no longer had to bite his tongue to hold himself back, or repeat that mantra in his head.

"Then let's go out on the deck," he suggested, and pulled a cigarette from the packet in the pocket of his shirt.

Outside, it was blindingly bright, the sun now blazing even though it was only nine o' clock. The various Straw Hats were saying farewells to whoever they had made friends with during their stay—Brooke playing "Bink's Sake" to a group of girls so scantily clad that he didn't have to even request to see their panties—Franky doing his trademark arms-in-air pose with two random girls while all three shouted "SUPAH!"—Luffy giving out random high-fives, while everyone else gave hugs, shook hands, and smiled. What was killing Hancock, though she didn't want to admit it, was that Sanji was almost entirely ignoring her. Instead he was looking lovingly at his crew, as he took a slow drag of hot smoke.

"Sanji," she started, and was crestfallen when he raised a hand to cut her off. What came next made everyone stand perfectly still, stitched every mouth shut in silence.

"Luffy!" he shouted, and there was something important in his voice which actually caught that so easily lost attention, made him look up. "I want to apologize to you. Because. I'm afraid you're gonna have to find a new cook!" The grin on his face was bittersweet, eye blazing as he bit into the filter. Hancock's breath caught in her throat, while every Straw Hat who wasn't Nami or Robin looked at him in utter disbelief.

"SANJI!" Luffy was mad, beyond mad. He stalked over, grabbing Sanji at the collar of his neatly-pressed pinstriped shirt. "What the hell are you talking about?" That lone eye which was the only one most people saw on Sanji's face was hidden in shadow, his lips played in a smile.

"I'm staying with the Kuja," he said simply. The hand loosened, and fell.

"Why?" was all he wanted to know.

"Because I have better taste in women than you do, shitty gomu." Zoro glanced at his reflection in the blade of a katana, and decided this was probably true. "I'm not leaving her." A thumb pointed in Hancock's direction, making her nearly-swoon. For some weird reason, Luffy looked relieved.

"Oh, is that all?" he laughed. "That's easy. HANCOCK!" he screamed, turning her face a rosy hue as the attention turned to her. "YOU'RE MY NAKAMA! SO JOIN MY CREW ALREADY!"

"What? She can't!"

"That's impossible!"

"Hebehime-sama would never be under another captain!" Their chatter faded as Hancock stepped slowly forward to Luffy, placing her hands on his shoulders, but not out of a desire to convey lust and longing—out of a desire to give her words more impact, to try and make him understand what she had to say.

"Gomenasai," she said, looking down at him, and tried to say something else, but he cut her off.

"We'll make you join! 'Cause we're not losing Sanji! FRANKY! Tell her how we made you join!"

"They stole my pants and got me by the balls," he said simply. Robin chuckled in recollection.

"Luffy!" Her eyes were serious, face red in anger. "Let me finish! . . . Gomenasai, for . . . for what I said. For when I said I . . ." she looked lost, as if she wanted to crawl away in defeat and hide under the nearest rock. "For when I said I loved you, in front of everyone," she managed to finish. "And for making you worry about me. I hope that won't make things difficult when I'm sailing with you." She managed to smile, while the Kuja's mouths hung open, along with Sanji's. The cigarette balanced on his bottom lip for an instant before it fell to the deck, sizzled, and died.

The impact of her words took a second to sink in, and then, a dazzling grin. "Shishishi!" The Flying Fish Riders, or Rosy Life Riders, or whatever they wanted to be called had now reached the Kuja's ship, and behind the sleek bodies of around forty fish was the last missing nakama—the Thousand Sunny. Duval's decked-out bull was aboard it, Duval on top of that out of sheer redundancy. Luffy couldn't possibly have seen it—his back had been turned before it was in sight for anyone without a spyglass, and he hadn't turned around once—but he gestured a hand behind him to indicate the ship, as if he could feel its presence. Mysterious eyes focused on hers. "Welcome aboard."

The first thing they decided to do was to go back to Rayleigh and thank him for coating the ship—that and ask him how the hell they were supposed to go down to the bottom of the sea with it. From what they could tell, the ship looked glossier, but that was about it—the doors weren't water-tight, so they could imagine the sea leaking in through them, and then there was the issue of how to _submerge_ the damn thing in the first place, seeing as it would be full of the air they needed to breathe. Nami and Franky both felt stupid—they'd seen Rayleigh three days earlier, while they waited for the Kuja to arrive, and had been too distracted to even ask how the ship was doing. Nobody else thought it was their place to ask about it—the navigator and shipwright were in charge when it came to such matters.

Everyone seemed to relax a little as the ship sat there glistening in the sun, pointlessly bobbing at sea. With the state of Shabaody Island such as it was, they'd decided it would be best to dock at nightfall, so they dropped anchor in the middle of the ocean and sat around doing the things they were so used to doing, and had seemed to have been deprived of for an eternity—Robin was sitting in her favorite lawn chair, reading a book, Chopper was making Rumble Balls and medicine, Usopp and Franky were messing around developing weapons, Sanji was cooking, and Nami was bitching at everyone. Brooke kept wandering about looking lost, asking if anyone needed help doing the various things they didn't need help with, and Boa Hancock, who wasn't used to doing anything at all, just sat in the galley watching Sanji work.

But Zoro—Zoro was tormented. Those kisses had met his lips, and after that—nothing. Three days of constant partying, two days of having their room invaded by sleeping crewmembers, one day of watching Sanji make out with Boa Hancock—not on purpose, but the smug cook seemed to be flaunting it. It was hard to avoid. And now everything was back to normal, except for one thing: Luffy was nowhere to be found. _He's avoiding me,_ he decided. _Having doubts. _It hurt like hell, but if the captain regretted what had transpired, the only thing to do was, well, nothing. So Zoro took a nap.

"Oi." An opened palm patted a light smack across his arm. "Zoro!" Normally, something like this wouldn't wake him up. Zoro didn't know if it was because he'd been ready to wake up anyways, or out of the want he felt when he heard that voice in his ear. Bleary eyes winced open a crack, taking in a noon sun, which blinded them. Below that glowing orb was a black silhouette—a bust—head and shoulders leaning over. The only thing which stood out was a dazzling grin.

"Where've you been?" He wanted to ask it casually, but it came out as a gripe.

The answer was a whisper, as if the message it conveyed was top-secret. The back of a hand shielded his mouth from the side, further conveying this fact, although it was pointless because nobody was on the stern but them. A look of excitement lit his eyes wickedly as he mouthed five words. "I was figuring something out." Now that Zoro's eyes had adjusted, he noticed that Luffy looked very flustered, a blush creeping about his face—not a blush of awkwardness, a blush of heat and exertion, like he'd been running a marathon. His whole body beaded with sweat.

"And what did you figure out?"

"Some new moves."

"Ah. _Okay._ And you woke me up to tell me this, because . . . ?"

"I wanted to show them to you." A big, stupid grin, and an expression that looked both hungry and satisfied at the same time. Zoro was just sleepy and irritated.

"Show me later, I'm busy." He knew he didn't look busy. A yawn. "Right now." Another yawn. "I don't really care if you've improved your fighting style."

"You know, Zoro," he frowned. "You're pretty dense sometimes." Zoro's jaw dropped. _This guy _was calling _him _dense? But his train of thought got derailed by what Luffy suggested next. "You think my arms and legs are the only things that stretch?" A sideways glance, one eye seeming bigger than the other from the perspective. The closer eye became the center of focus, below that a crooked, slightly-evil grin. _Other than arms and legs . . . _Zoro's eyes went a little wider, lips slightly parted, although he still looked sleepy. _Luffy, _he decided, _you kinky bastard._

"Good, you get it now! Shishishi!" He stood, an arm shooting for the ladder under the crow's nest, so high up. Zoro vaguely wondered what that meant, as the other arm spiraled his waist. By the time his brain made the connection they were already flying through the air, him screaming as his captain's—more like captor's—other arm snapped back, pulling them past burning whips of rope and the red and white stripes of sails. The ladder came at them blindingly fast, making contact with Luffy's feet—and Zoro's face. He slumped in the captain's grip, eyes entirely white. "Wari!" The swordsman's limp body got flung through the entry to the crow's nest, followed by Luffy, and then the door closed and locked behind them.

"GAH! Luffy! How many times do I have to tell y—" But the scolding got swallowed by Luffy's mouth, as it pressed gently against Zoro's, his tongue flicking agilely in to caress the other man's tongue, lips, and teeth with a moist heat. Luffy had been right—it was a very effective means of shutting Zoro up. That feverish tongue slid back into his own mouth, leaving his lips to slide across the other man's lips, leaving them to utter gasps and heated air. His hands rummaged at the base of a dark, short-sleeved dress shirt, pulling it free from the green-striped haramaki, and slipped under. Fingers traced up a thin yet muscled stomach, lighting on a slash of scar before open palms came to rest on a heaving ribcage. The fingerprints of one hand roved and found a nipple, rubbing it gently, making Zoro gasp.

The shirt slid back down, only to be immediately ripped open with a tearing sound of fabric, a rain of falling buttons. Those skillful lips had stopped kissing his, so Zoro started to protest, claiming he liked this shirt—but his words got cut off again, lips back on his skin—this time, the skin of his neck, where it met his shoulder. The sucking was slow, and gentle, the captain's erection pressing between his legs, making him, in turn, unbearably hard. He was melting, losing himself and all sense of control. He felt his own hand fall to the back of Luffy's head, fingers weakly running through strands of dark hair which tickled them, sending shivers up his arm.

The other hand fell to a slight indent of waist, taking in the sensation of the cottony, red fabric that made up Luffy's vest before both hands slipped down, resting on the captain's hips, trying to pull them nearer. Lips broke from his neck, and he wanted more of it, but painfully, torturously, there was a pause, a space in time opened up to allow his shirt to come off, his haramaki pulled away and tossed aside—even the bandana around his arm had to go, Luffy seemed to have decided, and the bastard was taking his sweet-ass time about undoing the knot. All he could do was pant at the oddly erotic denial of pleasure, his erection pressing tight at the front of his pants as they were unbuttoned, slipped down, and exiled to a corner. Boots, socks, underwear. Everything must go.

"This isn't fair," he managed to utter, with a smirk dimpling his flushed cheeks. "I'm totally naked and you don't even have your shirt open." A cloud floated lazily by the window, stunted compared to the blue sky it hung from, and spied on them. That grin that had won him over, started all this to begin with, and he found rubbery fingers laced with his, placing them against the rhythmic breathing of his captain's chest.

"Undress me." Such a thoughtless command, no please or even giving him the option—completely selfish and demanding, and very Luffyesque. It made Zoro not want to obey him, but he couldn't contain it anymore, those urges to see him naked, the needy desire to fuck him, the curiosity which made him want, above all things else, to solve the mystery that was Luffy. Instinct took over, and his fingers went for the buttons of his vest—then he thought better of it, and decided to get even, splitting the damn thing in half as it tore from the delicate flesh beneath it, clenched in Zoro's fists.

"Ah! My shirt!" It fell to the ground in two pieces, and Zoro's mouth found Luffy's to shut him up, just like Luffy had at the very start of this frantic, desperate encounter. It worked instantly, while a straw hat got flung atop a table. The button and zipper of his dark shorts got opened up wide, revealing that sencho liked to go commando. The pants joined their fallen comrade, the shirt, on the floor, while Luffy moaned and leaked precum on Zoro's dick, but managed to take control again. Long fingers closed around the swordsman's wrists, wheeling him about to smush him between a wall and a humid, flushing body.

And for a little while, nothing happened. Dark eyes stared up into his soul, ribcage rising and falling, skin reddened. Zoro was right—second gear and this vision of smutty longing had a lot in common. But he was puzzled as to why Luffy had stopped, and more than a little pissed. "Oi. Don't leave me like this."

"Wait," he gasped. "If I keep going I'll just get off."

"Isn't that the point?"

His panting mouth curled into a smile. "I want it to take . . . as long as possible." That turned him on and made him angry at the same time, just one of the many weird outcomes Luffy was capable of causing in this world. His breathing slowed. "I'm gonna show you what I figured out now." A blush rose in Zoro's cheeks as he watched the other man's dick, to his amazement, stretch out and snake around his in coils, slippery with precum so each pass of skin-to-skin, each glide, felt like crazy-making electricity, too good for words to describe—only moans would do.

"Ah!" Each stroke was slow—agonizingly slow, and the way Luffy's dick was spiraled about his meant that no more than half of the surface of either man's dick was being touched at the same time. This made it like a most beautiful form of torture, feeling too good yet not good enough, and Zoro both wished that he could get off already and begged that it would never end. When he slid forward, the grip was a pinch relaxed—when he pulled back, it was tighter, making the swordsman cry out in delight, in a series of gasps and shudders, making him clamp his hands to his mouth lest he yell.

And then, of all the cruelest things to happen at this moment, Luffy _entirely stopped moving,_ because a sudden idea had dawned on him, and made him, inexplicably, distracted from the task at hand.

"Whoa! Suge! I just got an idea!" The stars in his eyes announced that it was going to be something unbearably stupid, and Zoro was right. "What if I use third gear to inflate my wang? I could make it huuuuge! And then I could hit people with it!" Never had any man before Zoro felt so many different emotions, and of such a conflicting variety: fury, frustration, lust, the pain of his aching balls, and also, oddly enough, a desire to burst out laughing at the retarded mental image those sentences had conjured. He settled instead on telling him off.

"That doesn't even make sense as an attack! If your enemy is serious enough to use third gear, don't waste it on some petty move!"

A fist slammed down into an opened palm, a smile engulfing the lower half of the idiot captain's face as he pictured himself with a dick the size of that beanstalk back in Skypiea, while throngs of marines ran away from him in humiliated terror. "Yosh! I'll call it Gomu Gomu no Hanaji!"

That killing intent pumped through the veins of that heartless swordsman so many called a demon. "Luffy. I'm gonna rape you."

"Nngh." The groan escaped his lungs as Zoro pushed him to the floor, breaking that frozen contact between their engorged cocks, making Luffy's snap back from its twisted position to something more humanly normal. Zoro slammed down on him, a flailing arm smacking something on the table, which was almost immediately followed by a low-pitched, metallic wail—but neither of them made the connection—there was no time to focus on that. All he could focus on was that heated body trembling beneath him as he pinned hands that didn't protest, stole kisses without remorse, and received them in return. All Luffy could focus on was the strangely erotic feeling of being overpowered, something which so rarely occurred. Zoro was too wet to need lube, so he just did it—pressed himself sharply into that hot, tight entrance, feeling quivering and constriction, making him want to pound him hard into the floor, but for that high-pitched gasp. He hoped he hadn't hurt him.

Groans subsiding, the nails digging into his back loosening their grip. Those half-closed eyes told him it was the opposite of what he'd suspected—rather than hurt the captain, he'd found his sweet spot, on the instant he pushed inside him. Of course it wouldn't hurt, he realized. The guy was stretchy everywhere—including here. He pulled out slightly and thrust back in, multitasking in rubbing the other man's erection and kissing him at the same time.

"Oh, Zoro! Harder! Ah!"

Outside, the rest of the Straw Hats crew were hearing some very interesting dialogue over the loudspeaker.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Hanaji : Nosebleed


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12—Robin the Pervert! And the New World Awaits!

"Nnngh! Ah!" Deep, heaving breaths. The sound of something falling to the floor, rolling around in set of loud booms. "Ah!"

Everyone had frozen in place when the loudspeaker wailed to life, concerned that maybe it was about to warn them of approaching marines—but the sound of it turning on had been followed by five seconds of silence, making their fears draw out, increasing tension. And then this—sounds of Luffy gasping and moaning, obviously in pain, incapable of getting the words out to say what was the matter. A series of crashes. Sanji put the plate he'd been washing down, left the damp towel he'd had draped over his left arm on the counter. Robin closed her book. Chopper scooted away from his table in his rolly chair, arms still tensed on the table's edge as he turned to the sounds, and tried to decipher what they could mean.

A pattering of footsteps as the Straw Hats gathered on deck, each looking at the others with puzzled, worried glances.

The first to speak was Chopper. "Ah! Is Luffy hurt?"

"Sounds like. But think about it. Luffy's pretty hard to hurt. . . . I think someone's on the ship," Sanji concluded, lighting a cigarette.

"That's not necessarily the case. He could have hurt himself," Robin noted. "It's possible, noting what happened to Ace, that he might try to commit—"

"Don't even say things like that!" Nami shrieked, cutting her off, censoring her before she could get the ugly word out. Usopp nodded in response, a look of stern fear plastered to his features.

"Ah! Luffy's not like that! He's always so . . . happy. He didn't even seem that upset! He'd never . . ." But his thoughts were interrupted by more groans.

"He could have been pretending so we wouldn't be concerned."

Franky burst through a door, filling up its entire opening, looking unreasonably big as he tromped across the wooden boards. "Why the hell are we standing around? Let's just go up there!"

"You're right." Robin frowned. "I have experience with this sort of thing. I've been there. So I'll go."

"'This sort of thing'?" Nami was beyond offended, her faith in her captain unwavering, even if the person who suspected such a grisly situation was her closest friend. But when Robin started to climb the rigging, no one tried to stop her. She was almost to the ladder when Usopp noticed something odd, which pointed back to the "someone has invaded the ship" theory.

"Where's Zoro?"

Before anyone could consider the implications of this, Robin was at the entrance to the crow's nest, carefully twisting the knob. Neither of them had thought about locking it, since nobody came up here anyways unless they were on lookout or were Zoro, so she found it turned easily, the door gliding inward on well-oiled hinges. "Luffy," she said gently, but it got drowned out in a series of loud gasps and moans—not just Luffy's, but Zoro's as well. The scene before her was a perfect vision of lust—naked limbs twisted around a heaving torso, bodies locked together in a grinding dance of feeling, tension, heat, and sweat. Zoro was on top, gasping gently as his hips rocked. Luffy was beneath him, head tilted back, eyes closed, face awash in a look of ecstasy.

"Oi, Robin!" Franky shouted up. "Is he okay?" She was about to speak when Zoro shifted, and she got a good look at his dick as it penetrated sencho's ass, hard and throbbing as it thrust back into that tight, hot space. That was just too much, and Robin shot backwards from the ladder on a stream of blood, which flowed from each nostril like a vapor trail from a jet. She picked herself up from the ground, flustered as she wiped red liquid from her nose.

"Robin! Is he okay? What's—" But Nami's sentence was cut off, as the Den Den Mushi which conveyed the loudspeaker's message into the galley began to moan even louder, blushing furiously, a look of orgasm tingeing its snaily cheeks.

"Oh, Zoro! Harder! Ah!"

"He's more than okay," Robin managed—and with that, everyone put two and two together, and turned a mortified shade of red.

"Oh my god. They aren't—" Nami gasped.

"Then I . . . I was . . . right?" And with that, Hancock fainted into Sanji's arms.

"What the hell is going on? First Sanji, now them?" Usopp shrieked. "Is—is it contagious?"

"Ah! I don't wanna be an okama!" Chopper wailed.

"Oh, Luffy. Say my name again."

"Mmm. Zoro."

"Ahhhhhh!" Franky shouted, and descended into sobs. "Zoro! Luffy! I'll never think of you guys the same way again!"

"Why couldn't it have been the ladies?" Brooke wailed.

"Someone make it stop!" Chopper was now clearly freaking out, crying and running around in circles.

"Oh for fuck sake!" Sanji bellowed, and burst through the galley door, which was hanging open in shock. "Anti-Manner Kick Course!" A sharp kick to the Den Den Mushi, knocking it out, his skill displayed in that he hadn't even jolted Hancock as he held her in her faint. "Usopp! Shoot at the loudspeakers!"

Usopp looked uncertain as he stood there in paralysis, trying to understand whether of not this was just some horrible nightmare.

"Usopp!"

"Ah!" He did, small explosions engulfing each loudspeaker, one by one. Static, and the signal went dead. A long-handled pachinko fell to the deck, along with Usopp, who landed on his knees, heaving deep, dramatic breaths.

"It's over! Yokatta!" Brook's sobs conveyed nothing short of pure relief.

"I couldn't take much more of that." Franky just shook his head. And with that, everyone went back to whatever it was they were doing, still in a state of numb shock as they tried to shove echoes of Luffy and Zoro gasping each other's names from their minds. In the end, Robin and Nami were the only ones left on deck. Robin walked slowly back to the lawn, Nami following, mostly because she wanted to ask what exactly Robin saw them doing up there. Robin sat down in her chair, Nami next to her on the grass, both of them looking stunned and saying nothing. Robin made a move to reach for her book—but then her hand pulled away from it, and landed with the other one on her body, in the tell-tale position of arms crossed over her chest.

_What is she using her powers for? _Nami thought vaguely. And then it hit her—_She's not . . . ?_

"Ojos Fleur!" Suddenly Robin's face became enveloped in a pervy smile, while blood spurted from her nose.

". . . W-what are you doing?" But the archaeologist's eyes were far, far away—and entirely white. That creepy grin refused to fall, as she told Nami the truth with neither hesitation nor shame.

"I wanted to watch."

"R-Robin! You're invading their privacy!" Nami blushed. "That's just wrong! And . . . and!" Her face became covered in wavy lines of dramatic tears. "I WANNA SEE TOO!"

Neither Luffy nor Zoro had noticed the door hanging open, with Robin's stunned, flushed face peeping into it. They hadn't heard the wails of terror or screams of anger, because their own moaning voices drowned it out. The only thing which conveyed the idea that something was amiss was a cool breeze tickling Zoro's backside from the opened door, and the noise of sails ruffling just outside. Normally, Zoro was pretty perceptive of things like that, but all he could think of was how the wind caressing them matched the feeling of those soft fingers at his back.

Right now, all he could focus on was the pirate's mouth as those heated, reddened lips spilled kisses across his neck and face, spilled moans and gasps into his ears—his captain's shudders as he pressed deeply, disappeared inside that wet, hot, quivering opening—those spiraled limbs tying up his body, making it apparent that, even if he was on top, Luffy was in control, using his body like when he performed that ally robot technique.

Zoro knew he couldn't last much longer, but he wanted terribly for them to reach climax as one, to know that the same feelings shooting through him were also shooting through Luffy. His fingers massaged his captain's erection, completely soaked with precum. The feeling of their bodies aligning, rocking, the sound of his own name passing through those delicate lips in a groan—it was too much. He felt it overtaking him, a feeling like liquid light had been poured into his veins, yet everything was going dark, as his eyes winced closed and he tried to go more slowly, but knew that he couldn't. His body was beyond his control.

"Unless you want an ass full of cum," he gasped, "let me up."

"No." The limbs pulled tighter, eyes flickering half-open as seductive words trickled out. "I want you to come inside me." With that confession, they both lost it, sticky white wetness flowing from Zoro into Luffy, from Luffy onto Zoro's stomach and his own with a musky scent, his rubbery fingers racing through green tufts of hair and down the back of his neck, settling to press their tips into his shoulder blades.

"Ah! Mmm." Panting, and heaving chests. They both looked like they'd been using second gear. Zoro just collapsed in a fit of calm, his chest falling down on Luffy's—hand now out of the way, stomachs pressed together, fused by slippery cum and a feeling of sudden hunger and exhaustion. Zoro hadn't eaten all day. Luffy's stomach growled.

"Niku!" he sang out, all of a sudden. Zoro grinned.

"Haven't had enough of _my _meat, huh?"

"Your meat?" Luffy looked puzzled. "You didn't give me any meat. We were just having sex." He had no idea why Luffy felt the need to inform him of this—and to make matters worse, Luffy followed it up with a sagely nod. His expression was moronically certain—but he still looked handsome.

". . . I know that, Luffy." Zoro sighed, and felt dark hair brush against his fingers as he wove them through it. They both got the idea to kiss the other at the same time, meeting halfway, the silhouettes of their faces merging as they were lit behind from the warm sun. It streamed through the windows as those serpentine limbs snapped back in place, as Zoro rolled off him, and sat up, looking exhausted. Luffy joined him, and their gazes drifted out the window—to the west, and to the sun. In that direction was the New World, waiting for them to join it, and be swallowed and lost in its mysteries—waiting for them go places most never dream of, and find new enemies and allies—waiting to crown Luffy pirate king. They held hands, and shivered.

* * *

Glossary

Japanese : English

Niku : Meat

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_Author's Note:_

_Well, that's it for now—although I might continue this once enough of the original manga is out. That is, unless what I wrote so far gets completely jossed. I doubt it will get kripked (wouldn't that be awesome!), but so long as nothing too contradictory happens (like Luffy and Hancock getting married), I'll likely continue. In the meanwhile, those of you who are interested are encouraged to check out my other _One Piece_ fanfics__—_One Piece: In Hell___ (where most of the crew wind up swapping personalities due to the interference of a mysterious devil's fruit user; not complete yet but contains implied ZoSan), and _Spin the Bottle,___ a one-shot where Nami makes everyone play spin the bottle on her birthday (contains ZoLu fluff)._

_Ganbatte!_

_~Laydee Jiraya_


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